The Cause and Effect Saga - Book 8: Warriors
by Faylinn Night
Summary: Leonardo and Melody are warriors. They understand struggle, failure, regret, and if they're to consider one another family, they need forgiveness. Doing will require therapeutic steps, though—including help from Coyolxauhqui as she finds where she belongs in the clan dynamics and visits to Black Lotus survivors.
1. Saisei

**A/N:** Here we are, at the start of yet another book. I won't bother complaining about the trouble it gave me; if you care, you probably already know from the Cause and Effect facebook page. Anyways, like " _Sunrise_ " and " _Cause Worth Celebrating_ " this book is character-driven as opposed to plot-driven (with the primary couple being Leo/Coyo.) And I wanna thank _DuckiePray_ and _Sciencegal_ for letting me vent to them to get this thing complete. Love you! Now on with the show. **  
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* * *

 **CHAPTER 01:** **SAISEI**

Cleaning day sparked as much competition amongst the Hamatos in their mid-twenties as it had back when they were children. The only difference over the years was that they had additional players. Oh, and the Lair had been replaced by Saisei.

"Being in the jungle has put you out of practice, Bro!"

Leonardo glanced up in time to see a blur of orange and blue-green flip over his head, from the stairs into the living room where the Jonin cleaned ash from the wood stove.

"For the last time, it was a _rainforest_ , Mike!" Donatello screamed somewhere unseen.

Michelangelo chuckled then brought his attention to the lithe cyborg in a poncho. "Still on chore one, Mel?"

Melody kept focused on her feather duster, which flicked curt sweeps over one of the multiple seats around the wood stove.

"You know you're supposed to wash cloth seats, right?" Mike added.

The cyborg made a face with a subtle draw-down of her eyebrow and lips. "I have literally grown up in dirt. So have you. I fail to see the importance."

"This coming from the _doctor_? Come on, we got the little dudettes to consider!"

"Dust builds resilience to allergies."

"Uh-huh. You're just sore you drew the dusting card from the hat. Again."

Melody huffed yet dropped the subject along with her robotic hand. Her mismatched gaze fell on Leo for all of a second before she shied away, pushing back her ear-length hair and retreating to the dining room.

"Still can't keep eye contact, can she?" asked Mikey lowly.

"We..."

"It's okay, Leo. There's no rush. For either of you."

True. Still, the Jonin felt a pang of regret every time Donny watched his wife and brother part ways without a word.

"Yo, Figo! You're slacking!" Leo braced himself for the petite blonde that swung over the second-story balcony to her boyfriend's side. Her upturned nose pointed towards the ceiling, a smirk crossing her freckled face. "I've already done the bathrooms."

The jokester gapped. "What?"

"You heard me. I'm about to steal work from Defi, too. At this rate, the prize will be all mine."

"Bathrooms were Coyo's job, Hoshi."

"We switched."

"Hold it"—Leo's shovel crunched in the ash pail—"you left Coyo with the vacuum?"

Sophia shrugged. "Can't be any worse than the dishwasher, right?"

"Or toaster?" Mikey added. "Dryer? Stove? My poor, poor Gameboy?"

"That was your fault," Leo told the orange-masked Chunin.

"How was I supposed to know she'd be scared of zombies?"

"She hasn't be desensitized to half the stuff we are."

"Please; she grew up protecting aliens, but the moment a guy with his eye falling out comes up on a small screen, she chucks it out a window. A window, Leo! It was vintage, too."

"That's what you get for taking a jungle girl out of the jungle," Sophia said with another shrug.

" _Rainforest_!" Don's voice screamed. The trio glanced around, although with the new intercom system the genius had installed left no clue of his true location.

"Stalker," the blonde grumbled.

Mounted speakers clicked. "Not stalking. Testing."

"You better not have one of these things set up in the bedrooms, you kinky—"

"Easy, Hoshi." Mike patted his girlfriend, grinning at her growl. "Don ain't _that_ weird."

"I'm not—"

Leo stood and waved a hand he knew Donny saw over the security monitors. "Get back to your chores. I'm going to check on Coyo."

Sophia needed less encouragement than Michelangelo; the tip of her pale ponytail disappeared beyond the dining room archway before he realized her advantage. The jokester mentioned something about how only he could steal from Raphy, but any other complaints fell on deaf ears as Leonardo mounted the stairs to the second floor. He passed Mia and Nia in the nursery, and thankfully, the twins were awake because the commotion down the hallway would've been a rude awakening.

"Coyo!" Leo dashed towards an overturned shop vac whose hose sucked in over half of his wife's curls. The native rocked on her tailbone, feet, and hands attempting to free her while Yolotli squawked. "Wait, you're hooked!"

The Jonin kneeled to unwrap layers of hair pinched in the hose's accordion bend then fumbled for the power switch. By the time the machine whined down, Coyo had scrambled against the wall and protectively combed fingers through her tangles.

"You're supposed to be watching her," Leo told Yo. The Blue-throated Macaw puffed his neck feathers then shook his head. "Yeah, you were," Leo added.

"Awk! Coyo hate! Coyo hate!"

Leo fought a laugh when Coyo glared at the vacuum—her overactions at times matched a cat's—yet the frustration through Mozallo kept him silent as Yo hopped towards his owner on his good talon.

"Stupid monstrosity," she said in Nahuatl. "How does Leo's family stand this life? So many strange noises. Water inside home. Warmth without fire. No link to nature. A contraption for any basic need. And unnatural entertainment."

"It's called TV."

"How can one enjoy watching people trapped in a box?"

"We've been over this. They aren't miniaturized people or trapped."

"Look wrong. Feel wrong. Is wrong. Like one-eyed monster."

Leo watched his wife shake her head and Yo rubbed his beak against the bubbled skin along her near-mutilated feet. "Put on some warmer clothes," he said. Coyo looked up with inquisitive, orange eyes. "That romper won't do you much good outside."

"Outside?"

"I know it's frigid by your standards, but you like the river, right? We can wash things the old-fashioned way. Or beat rugs. Like back in Ecuador. Sound good?" The Jonin pulled his wife up by the hand when she nodded. Yo hitched a ride by climbing her back to her shoulder, though Leo plucked him off. "It's too cold for you," he said. "Stay in our room, alright?"

The McCaw squawked in displeasure. Still, he didn't fight to return to Coyo when the native headed downstairs.

* * *

It was a warm April day, compared to the bitter snap that had covered New York City in deep snow a week prior. Fifty degrees, perhaps? High enough to warrant a light jacket, although Coyolxauhqui's teeth chattered no matter how many layers she buried herself under.

' _Shame Mike's Christmas Story comment went over her head,_ ' thought Leo with a smile. ' _She does look like Ralphie._ '

The native pulled at her mittens then snorted before swinging a broom against a rug hung over a clothesline between two trees by the semi-frozen river. She beat dust from it over and over, each time harder than the last until a brown cloud flowed with the breeze and she began to pant.

"Woah, woah!" Leo stole the broom when his eyes stung. "Easy, Notlanextli!"

Coyo made a mixed noise between a huff and a groan, despite the tender address as Leo's 'light.' She averted her gaze, occupied herself by crunching through the foot of leftover snowfall along the riverbank.

"I'm not even going to ask if you're okay," the mutant continued.

"Noyollo..."

"It's fine. I expected this." Leo reached for Coyo with the broom held in his other hand. He brushed aside the curly hairs splayed outwards from static, which added a distressed element to her contorted expression. "How many times do I gotta tell you not to worry or rush?"

"But," she croaked, "Coyo no help, make worse."

"What are you talking about? This rug has never been so thoroughly cleansed. I think."

The attempt at humor fell short; Coyo's stare grew glossy, and her Texohuitztli scrunched as she grimaced. "How Coyo belong?" she whispered. "Leo's tribe like alien planet."

"No one said you had to live like us."

"Is Leo's city, home."

"So?"

"Coyo should—"

"Adjust how _she_ feels comfortable. No one expects you to become a modernized woman, let alone in such a short time. All we ask is that everyone here is themselves."

"How Coyo be Coyo when she no knows her role again?"

Leo's voice lowered as his arm slipped behind his wife to pull her against his plastron. "Your role hasn't changed," he said just above a whisper. "You're co-leader, my support, my other half. The others respect you for that. Trust they'll accept the ways you prefer to do things."

"Th—they like modern."

"I've come to realize a break from city chaos is healthy. You can find common grounds. Don't be afraid to look for them."

"What ground?" Coyo asked with furrowed brows. "All share ground. It stony and wooden."

"Not literal ground. I mean you can find things to bond over."

"What about Ayannite woman?"

The mutant stiffened. Mozallo let him know how unnerving Coyo considered Melody to be, although the opinion could've been tainted by Leo's past experiences, not the native's dislike for machinery.

Coyo sighed, saying, "Leo struggle, too."

"She probably struggles with me more than I do her, but..." Leo also sighed. "We live in Saisei."

"What Saisei mean?"

"Rebirth. New Beginnings. This place has lived up to its name in so many ways. It won't stop, either. Melody and I will work things out. Like you will work with the others."

"Why confident?"

"Because if you could bring me back from the brink of suicide, you can befriend _anyone_." Leo used his wrapped arm to draw up his wife, who he kissed, soft and fleeting like the snow that began to drift down from gray skies.


	2. Twitch

**CHAPTER 02:** **TWITCH**

Coyolxauhqui retreated further into her long-sleeve blanket, wishing it were a shield between her shame and the cacophony of people, lights, noise, and stench of New York City.

"Cheer up, Coyo," April said. The fire-haired woman glanced over her shoulder while walking and the other women at her sides followed suit.

"Ye—yeah," added Nia, "it wasn't so bad."

"I dunno," Soap started, "I've never been banned from so many places in one day. Tatuaggi, you are an inspiration."

The curly-haired native grimaced, thoughts plagued by disasters that rested on her shoulders.

"Stop teasing, _Soap_ ," April told the yellow-haired woman.

"Stop patronizing, _Rosso_."

"Guys," Nia chided. She stopped along the stone path crowded by innumerable strangers then waited for her sister-cousin before walking again. "We never meant for you to be embarrassed. You know that, right?"

Right; Coyo had made a mess of things without help.

"It's been a learning experience," April said.

Soap's pointed nose snorted. "That's one word for it."

"Least she understands currency exchange now," Nia continued. She meant her words as encouraging, as evident by her crooked grin; however, they only reminded Coyo of how irate the smelly food keeper had become when she attempted to leave his glass dwelling with food to sample.

"She understands automatic doors, too," Soap said with a shrug. "That doesn't stop her from inching under them like they'll chop her in half. Heh, that crab dance will always be funny, though."

Coyo glared over the long cloth wrapped around the bottom half of her face. "If door open on own, door shut on own."

"Sensors don't have wills," Nia said, giggling.

"But they can malfunction," Soap added.

April swatted the yellow-haired woman's shoulder. "Don't say things like that!"

"Cosa? It's true."

"Don't worry." Nia locked arms with Coyo. "E—even if they did malfunction, the motors don't have near enough power to, you know, uh, cut limbs. They just lock you in place or bruise you or...maybe break something."

"Smooth, Calza."

"Least I'm trying!"

"We should let Tatuaggi be Tatuaggi, have nature take its course."

April's footfalls thumped against the stone path, louder than New York's chatter or Soap's snigger. "You only say that because you like watching her flounder."

"Come on, Rosso. You laugh, too."

"Not really."

"No?" Smirking, Soap pulled out a near-flat, rectangular object from her split skirt. Her thumbs tapped it, which performed magic Coyo will never understand, and when it began talking, Soap held it up to show the others.

Coyo shivered—not because the low sun robbed her of warmth but because she appeared on the screen. "You trapped me!" she screamed.

"Easy, Honey," Soap said. she held up an arm to prevent the shorter woman from snatching the device. "It's just a vid. See?"

As Nia reclaimed sister-cousin's arm, the device glowed with moving pictures that included rows of open cages and fretting animal guardians who chased Coyo. Chirps, barks, howls, squeals, and the native's calls for freedom were drowned out by Soap's goading and above all April's mirth.

"Oh, man, you were a one-woman revolution, Tatuaggi."

"Who now knows Pet Smart is _not_ an animal prison." The fire-haired woman ignored the fact that Soap had been right and cleared her throat.

"Is prison," Coyo insisted. "Sad things trapped in metal, defenseless, kidnapped."

"Please, exaggerate some more," Soap said.

"They need real home!"

"Trust me," the yellow-haired woman put away her device, "New York's streets are not the place those critters wanna be. Most of them were breed from other domesticated animals, anyway. It's all they've ever known. Sometimes, that's for the better."

"K'ekchi all Coyo knew. Better had she stayed?"

Soap stiffened as the quartet rounded a corner, and she shared looks with her sisters.

"Both you and Leo would've been miserable had you done that," April said with a sigh. "He wants you happy."

"We all do," added Nia. Her hold on Coyo's arm tightened. "That's why we called for a girl's day. You haven't left Saisei, well, ever."

"Unless you count her trip down the river," April interjected. "Oh, and cleaning day."

"Is cold," Coyo muttered. "No know how people like."

The fire-haired woman snort-laughed. "It's almost sixty, and you're bundled up like Ralphie."

The native huffed into her long cloth. Must everyone keep mentioning this 'Ralphie'? Why was he relevant?

"Weeks couped up anywhere would drive me batty," Soap added, stretching.

Drive batty? What did that even mean?

Tugging frazzled hair, Coyo left Nia to pass April and Soap. Hurried footsteps trailed after her, which were silenced by sudden, hollow thumps. The native slowed her pace when she spotted a skinny man in a split-skirt that slipped down his hips. His palms hit multiple buckets cut into odd shapes set-up before a bridge. April and Nia mentioned something about keeping distant, but the way the man swayed with his rhythm enticed Coyo. He glanced up, dark skin glistening, and smirked before his song increased the tempo.

"Coyo, light!"

Multiple hands pulled Coyolxauhqui back so violently, she fell into someone's lap as a rolling machine blared its horn. Alarm left her muscles tingling, and she panted, glancing up at the black path lined with white stripes.

"Pay attention at the crosswalks, Sciocco!" Soap sounded startled, although her latent anger made Coyo will for the magic post to change symbols. When it did, she hurried towards the bridge and ignored the sisters' complaints to stand at the man's biggest drum.

He ended his song with a resounding pound, well-aware of Coyo. "Hey, little birdy," he said.

The tribeswoman looked aside at where a flock of fat, white birds harrassed a stone statue. Which one did he mean?

"No, you, fly girl," the drummer continued.

"Coyo not fly," Coyo replied.

"Oh, don't put yerself down. Any chickadee that almost gets flattened on their way to me deserves some credit, na' mean?"

"Chickadee?"

"Like my tunes, I take it. Feel free to leave some cheese, and I can lay down some more mad beats."

"Why man want dairy? He hungry?" Coyo's vision fell on a metal cup labeled 'tips,' unmoving as the man chuckled.

"You whack, girl. I dig whack. And yer tats; those are _dope_. Who did 'em? Tony? Gretchen?"

"Someone you'll never meet," Soap interrupted. She came to a stop at Coyo's side and crossed her arms once April and Nia joined.

"Don't be so dead-ass," the drummer said.

"She's taken, Sleazeball."

"By you?"

"What's it matter? You both may smell like trash bags, but that's about all you have in common."

Wait; Coyo smelled?

"It's nothing we can't handle," Nia added in an undertone. She gave two thumbs up, but Coyo failed to understand the gesture and realized she had seen many people cover their noses around her.

"Why you buggin'?" asked the drummer. "It ain't criminal to talk."

"You can probably tell she's easy to take advantage of, though," Soap said. "It's written all over her face."

No, those were Languu symbols for prosperity.

"She means you're obviously gullible," Nia whispered into Coyo's ear.

"Let's just drop this before things escalate," April interjected. She laid a hand on Soap's shoulder then offered the drummer a smile. "Good luck on your, uh, career. We'll be going now."

"Yeah, get outta here." The drummer turned his attention back to his buckets. "Don't need no broads spazzing on me anyway."

"Escusa?"

"Walk it out, Sophia," April said, pushing the yellow-haired woman away.

Fat birds scattered as the sisters rounded the white-dotted statue and Coyo sunk onto a rock wall with her hands dug into her hair.

"Maybe we've been out long enough," Nia suggested.

She rubbed her sister-cousin's back as the native clenched her jaw, asking, "Man talk English?"

"Uh," the other three grimaced, "no."

"So don't feel bad if he made no sense," Soap said. "Most New York slang goes over my head, too. I'm sure it wouldn't be much different if we were born in the States, either."

Coyo's shoulders slumped with a long sigh. What was the point? She knew city life would make an ill-fit, yet to have the truth reiterated time after time weighed on her optimism.

"It's okay, Coyo," Nia said. "You just have to find—"

The dirt behind the native shifted with a subtle scratching sound. A gray tuff led Coyo to unearth a layer of wood shavings. Below it, a black-eyed creature with a long, bushy tail curled inwards, its askew paws twitching against its white underbelly.

"A flying squirrel?" Soap asked.

"Poor thing must've been hit," Nia added. "It's so young, too."

Coyo ran a finger over the squirrel's bristly fur. It felt similar to pitzol hides and made her smile.

"Tatuaggi, don't. It could have diseases."

"It hurt, Soap."

"So? Those things are a dime a dozen."

"I have to agree with Sophia on this one," said April.

"No!" Nia helped Coyo wrap the long cloth around the squirrel. The sister-cousins exchanged compassionate looks; if anything, at least the Tlatlaco empathized with her compulsion to help.

"This won't go over well with Capo, you know?"

Coyo looked up at Soap as she cradled her new charge. Its cacoon moved with his erratic breathes and she felt confident Leonardo would not deny it sanctuary.

* * *

"No, Mike."

"But, Leo—"

"No more animals. Got it?"

Melody withheld a groan, attempting to keep focused on her medical studies rather than the commotion the Hamato brothers caused in Saisei's living room.

"Look at these faces, though." Michelangelo kneeled by Raphael's seat, where Nyx sat against her father's plastron. The jokester pushed one side of her mouth up to force a gummy smile, and she whined as her uncle did likewise with Selene on Donatello's lap. "They want a wittle kit-inn."

"They're barely two months old, Mike," said Don, listless. "Their only desires are to eat, sleep, and poop."

"Yeah," Raph paused, maybe to glance at his twins, "I swear they squeeze out twice as much as what goes inta 'em."

"Don't change the subject," Mikey snapped.

"It won't make a difference," added Leonardo. "It's a zoo around here. You have—"

Awk! Yolotli dove from the second-story balcony. His blue and yellow feathers formed a streak in Melody's peripheral vision, and when she glanced up from her textbook, she saw a gray-green blur tumble down the stairs. Pez floundered at the bottom, hooves clicking and armadillo-like tail whipping.

"Guys, no!" Leonardo cried too late. The McCaw sought refuge on the Jonin's scalp and Pez snort-squealed as he circled his obsession. "Come on, knock it off!"

"Pez!"

The piranha-pig quieted to grunt at Raph. The hothead scowled, although Nyx watched with wonder in her heterochromatic eyes. Good; the hybrid's vision was progressing on schedule.

"See what I mean?" asked Leonardo, cringing. He pushed Pez away with a wrapped foot when the creature began making guttural sounds then faced Mikey. "I keep finding Cuddles, too. I don't care what Sophia says; she escapes, and likes the kitchen."

"Wait," Raph paled, "Cuddles has been out?"

"Last I found her, she was in the cereal box."

"Which one?"

"Coco Crispies."

"That bitch."

Raph glared into thin air, and his older brother almost tripped into Melody's spot on the loveseat when Klunk ran between his legs. The new distraction gained Yo's attention, calling him back upstairs with Pez on the duo's heels.

"See what I mean?" Leonardo asked the group, arms raised. "Zoo! We're absolutely not getting any more—"

Saisei's front door swung open as Coyolxauhqui swooped into the living room alongside a gush of spring air. The curly-hair native remained dressed in the ridiculous amount of layers she had left in, although her scarf had been removed. She held it in a bundle, calling for her husband while April, Sophia, and Nia closed the door behind them.

Leonardo looked down at Coyo's hands. "What's that?"

"Your latest headache, Capo," Sophia answered.

She gave a Cheshire grin as Nia added, "We call him Twitch."

"Coyo help," the native said. "Twitch hurt. Alone. Would die. Leo help too, yes?"

Melody watched with inward humor while Raph and Don sniggered behind their older brother's back. The Jonin choked on a reply, stricken by the dark-skin woman who gazed at him with rounded eyes. His will to stand his ground slowly crumbled when his wife pulled the scarf aside to better show its occupant and he gave into a sigh that Mikey spoke over.

"Dude, that's biased!"

"Set it up in our room," Leonardo told Coyo. Joy spread across her face, and she kissed her husband's cheek then dashed for her bedroom.

"Thought we didn't play favorites in this clan," Mikey said, pouting.

"Surprised?" countered Raph. "Blue's the one who puts out for him."

The Jonin sent the hothead a pointed stare yet kept silent while Nia took Selene from Don. "Oh, Mommy missed you!" she cooed. The infant waved her arms and gave a silent giggle when her mother kissed her pop stomach. "Oh!" Nia pulled back, nose scrunched. "Someone needs changed. Huǒ."

Raph paused from slinking out of his seat. "Aw, man."

"You promised. We'll change Nyx, too, just in case. " A sweet yet poignant grin prompted Raph to follow Nia to the nursery upstairs, where the pets continued their chaotic chase.

Melody rubbed her flesh temple as Mikey threw his hands up in defeat. He left towards the kitchen, likely curious about the mysterious Twitch, and Don, April, and Sophia walked after him. Finally, the living room stilled; all save for the incessant look that kept the cyborg from memorizing key symptoms of autoimmune diseases. She avoided Leonardo, loathed how prominent she had become since the distractions ceased. Her textbook snapped shut, and she stood to find a new study corner.

"Don't," Leonardo said. Melody faced him. "We need to talk."


	3. Ready

**A/N:** Yesterday was a bad, bad day. :(

caxtillān quimichin = rat in Nahuatl. Coyo uses native names for animals because she's a problem child...

* * *

 **CHAPTER 03:** **READY**

By the time Kaiya sat on the Dojo's tatami floor, Leonardo had tired of repeating himself.

"Sorry, sorry," the little blonde said, "I'm just so excited!"

Kaiya sprung from her seat _again,_ and Leo had to use his super strength to push her back down. "If you're serious about learning Bushido, you must—"

"Uncle Mikey told me to call you 'Shishou' because 'Sensei' would be too confusing. Why? What's the difference?"

"Well, Shishou is a stronger address, admittedly. It's a promise to be committed, to—"

"If I call you Shishou, what am I?"

"Deshi. If you pay attention to—"

"What do you call Coyo? It's a funny word. But it's not Japanese, is it? Should we call her something else?" Kai stared in the native's direction, golden eyes narrowed in contemplation.

"We aren't here for Coyo, Kaiya."

"Then why she'd come?"

"She's curious."

"Me too! Miss Coyo, are you really a princess? Did you marry Mister Leonardo in a big white dress like Mommy married Daddy? Can mutants only get married in the jungle? I want to marry a mutant one day. Do you think I can—"

Leo sighed. "Kaiya."

"Hey!" Kai crawled towards Coyo, who watched with her head cocked. "What do you think of Nyx and Selene?"

"Kaiya."

"Do you like them? I do; they're funny! Not as funny as Tobi, though."

"Kaiya."

"Will you and Leo have babies, too?"

"Kaiya!" The eight-year-old flinched under the Jonin's bellow as she sheepishly backed up. Once seated on her legs, Leo squared his shoulders and tempered his tone. "This is important. I know you've been eager for a long time, but this isn't like your exercises with Mikey. Self-Control, Jisei, isn't a virtue included in every iteration of the Bushido Code, yet I find it important. As my Deshi, so will you. Understand?"

The girl gave a meek nod.

"Good. You're different now, Kai. And if you don't learn to control your abilities, Bishop _will_ find you. You won't be the only one to suffer, either; so will your parents and sister. It's up to _you_ to protect them."

"Me?" Kaiya whispered.

"Hai."

"Uh."

"Something wrong?"

"Will I be...strong enough?"

"Battles aren't always won with strength or armies. They can be won with cunning and courage, both of which you used to stop that gangster who hijacked your bus."

"But I got Miss Tabi..." The little blonde slumped onto her feet, face a pale white.

Leo felt a hand on his—his wife's comfort for the empathetic guilt shared not only through Mozallo but between the teacher and pupil as well. "Bad things happen," he said. "They never stop happening. That's life. Think: if you had done nothing, none of your classmates would've survived. Tabitha may have died anyway, too. She chose to be a hero. What do you choose?"

"I wanna be strong," answered Kaiya. "I wanna help. Like Shishou. I...I want to be a Phantom!"

"Then prove it. This won't be easy, and I won't hold back. But if you mean what you say then"—the Jonin smiled—"you will make a great Deshi."

"Really?"

"Hai."

"What about Coyo?"

"Huh?"

"She fought bad-guys in the jungle, right?"

"Rainforest."

Kai huffed. "Sophia goes with you sometimes. But Nia and Melody don't. What about Coyo? Is she gunna be a Phantom?"

"Well..." Leo glanced aside, although Coyo kept focused on the curly-haired blonde. He never thought to ask if she would continue fighting and watched patiently for an answer.

"Coyo done with war. Done fighting. Want peace, want..." The native sighed, something like longing cutting into her gut. "Coyo fight if Leo need her."

"It's okay," Leo added with a grin. "I feel better with you at Saisei, anyway, Notlanextli."

"But not me?" asked Kaiya.

The Jonin eyed the eight-year-old. "You, Deshi, are far from being ready for fieldwork. So that doesn't matter right now. First, you need to—"

"Twitch!"

Leonardo groaned as nails pattered across the tatami floor. They stopped when Kaiya giggled, and the mutant glared at the Flying Squirrel who ran around the blonde's shoulders. ' _It's like training with Mikey all over again. No wonder they get along._ '

"Coyo." Leo waited for his wife to face him. "I know you wanted to watch, but I think it'd be better if you took Twitch out. Otherwise—"

Coyo giggled. "Come, Twitch!" With a soft chatter, Twitch scampered into his owner's wild curls, leaving his playmate to pout.

"Deshi," Leo warned. He caught Coyo's final smile before she left the Dojo then regarded Kai in a no-nonsense tone he had come to master over the years. "Lesson one: concentrate."

* * *

Commotion upstairs brought Coyolxauhqui to Saisei's main room; however, she did not find who she expected. Gavin, Mia, and Adeline joined Splinter in colorful seats, chatting wildly until the native came to a stop beside the caxtillān quimichin.

"Ah, Coyo," Mia said. "Perfect timing."

"Why time perfect?" Coyo asked. She retreated to the fire pit and wished it were open rather than closed; New York was so cold.

"We were just discussing a commonality: leaving family behind."

Coyo's smile fell, though she left her curiosity unsaid.

"It's a sad trend, isn't it?" continued Mia. "We all had unique reasons, though. Some happier than others." The brown-haired woman winked at Coyo. Why?

"Good point," Adeline said. Her accent closely resembled Coyo's speech pattern, yet even then, the native found it hard to decipher the last syllables of the words. "I wish I left Italy for the same reason you left South America, Coyo. But no; I'm pushed across the globe just to stay alive, and casa mia still gets stalked by mostri."

Mia hummed. "Prowlers, right? Causing mischief in surplus nowadays."

"Thanks ta that cute hoor Bishop," Gavin spat. His drawl had worsened over the last week, giving Coyo the impression of a 'cowboy' Mikey had once shown her.

"I left my famiglia because of that folle," Adeline groundout.

Mia shook her head. "And you wind up smack-dab in the center of his main HQ. What are the odds?"

"Fate is an interesting mistress," Splinter added. "At the core of our strife lies Bishop. Yet it is also because of him that we were drawn together as a new family."

Adeline faced the old mutant. "And I'm happy Sophie found someone better fit for her than Marco. Still, to have turned to Nom de Guerre makes me wish my daughter had never gotten involved in this hero business. I don't blame her, but part of me resents not being there when..."

"Oh, right." Large wheels squeaked as Mia turned her chair. "Donny found them. Your family?"

"Si."

"And?"

The fat woman puffed with air then slowly released it while she spoke, "My sister-in-law died four years ago, not long after Sophie and I left. It was some sort of rare defect latent in her genres. Like my family's bone disorder, I guess. It put a lot of stain on Evasio and the kids. Adamo is in and out of jail for misdemeanors, and his sister's married to her softball league. Guess Dina could be doing worse at twenty-three. But she doesn't have a passion for anything not involving a bat, ball, or bottle, according to her drunken disorderly write-ups."

"Ade," Mia reached for the pale woman who filled her entire seat with her figure, "I'm so sorry they're struggling."

Adeline returned the gesture. "Nothing can be done at this point."

"Doesn't mean you can't be sad about it."

"Sad? As if. It pisses me off! I don't understand how my parents can just let them ruin themselves. Doesn't matter if they're in their seventies; they're proud Italians. Had I been there, that sciocco would never—cosa? I don't—ah, fanculo! I need to cook."

Adeline stood, moving faster than any woman with her weight normally would. Mia called after her then wheeled behind the stalking Italian.

"We never go hungry when Adaline-san visits," Splinter said.

"Ai," Gavin added, "they gossip over meals all the time at our gaff, too, until the kitchen's in tatters and they feel downright divvy."

Coyo had no idea what the Irishman meant. Neither did Splinter if his blank smile meant anything.

The fire-haired man cleared his throat then also stood. "I'm going to check on Nia and the babes."

Coyo watched him mount the stairs to the nursery with a frown. Though the others were difficult to understand at times, without them the warmth in the main room chilled, and to keep from shivering, the native scooted backward on the floor until her back almost touched the fire-stove.

"Here, Coyo-chan."

Heavy fabric draped over Coyo's upper body. A shawl? Not just any shawl; she would recognize the embroidery style anywhere.

"But Splin-tah, this is—"

"A gift from your people. Who better to share it with?"

Well, it was much warmer being wrapped up, and Splinter gave an encouraging smile, so why fight the matter? Coyo buried as much of her body as possible under the shawl, watching the caxtillān quimichin return to his plush seat.

"I thought you wanted to join Leonardo and Kaiya, Coyo-chan."

"Twitch distract. Kaiya..." What was the right word to describe the ever-speaking child?

"She is spirited," Splinter said. "But my son has experience with such high-strung tendencies. If anyone can harness her potential, it is him...Coyo? Does something trouble you?"

The native focused on her dirty feet. "You no think Coyo awful person?"

"That is rather out of the blue. Why would I?"

"Coyo left brother. Left sister. Left people."

"And as you heard, you are not the only one who did so."

"Quema. But how could they?"

"For the unique reasons Mia mentioned. Her maiden family forsook her. Gavin-san fled his for reasons he will not share. And Adeline-san left hers to keep them safe. Each was brought here, though, to my clan. Just like you. Coyo-chan." A gentle click brought the native's gaze to where Splinter fiddled with a gnarled staff. "You left Ecuador to be with my son. While you may see it as abandonment, I see it as a lover's sacrifice. You gave him everything—support, faith, trust, confidence, solace, and more. All before you even _knew_ him."

"Leo need help then."

"He still does. Which is why I am so grateful you decided to join us here. My only regret is that I could not attend the wedding."

Coyo bit her lip, saying, "Sorry. Coyo want married by K'ekchi."

The caxtillān quimichin chuckled. "It is a small qualm. Easily overshadowed by relief."

"Relief?"

"I thought this day may never come, where my sons would find mates to help carry them further through life. You women compliment them: Nia-san's empathy to Raphael's passion, Melody-san's inner-care to Donatello's patience, Sophia-san's eccentricity to Michelangelo's need to be stimulated, and your open-heart to Leonardo's caution. Knowing you will stand by them, protect one another, brings me content I lacked when my cancer struck. I was not ready to die then. It will be easier now."

"Splin-tah no die!"

Splinter chortled—a booming sound that jolted Coyo with anxiety. "I have years left in me, thanks to Nia-chan. Just ask Melody-san."

"Mel-dee hate questions."

"You simply must keep insisting. That is when she lets down her walls."

"Mel-dee hold walls? Why? If they fall, will Mel-dee be hurt?"

The caxtillān quimichin grinned with mirth reminiscent of Nenetl. "You could say that. It is a risk, but we are teaching her it is a necessary one." Slowly, the grin died. "Leonardo mentioned yesterday that he and Melody-san are ready to start reconciling. They are going to meet Black Lotus survivors. The ones from Hall-F, anyway."

Coyo frowned, muscles tight from both heat and haunting memories from her husband. "Should they forget past instead? Move forward?"

"Not yet," Splinter answered in a low voice. "They need closure. Without it, their animosity towards one another will remain unresolved. That would be more poisonous in the long run. Do you not agree?"

She did. Still, thinking about the pain Leonardo and Melody would unearth left her stomach in knots.


	4. Nerves

**CHAPTER 04:** **NERVES**

Donatello's doubt bore into Melody as her robotic hands fumbled to fasten her cloak. "You sure?" he asked.

"I am," answered Mel, stoic.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Why do I have doubts, then?"

"Because you worry like a mother hen."

"Mel."

"I will be fine, Damn Mechanic." The cyborg glanced at her husband across their spacious bedroom then back down where she stood. Ugh, why did the stupid garment not tie instead of latch?

"If by 'fine' you mean 'a ball of nerves at the mercy of a whack Limbic System' then, yeah, you'll be fine."

"Whack?"

"Nevermind my wording. Seriously, I can talk to Leo."

"This is between him and me."

"Are you prepared to place yourself in that sort of position, though? You won't have anyone else to talk to or help, just Leo and..."

Mel, shaky hands wrapped in her cloak hood, faced Don with a dead expression. "Say it," she whispered. "My victims."

"Melody." The genius raised his hands until they fell with a sigh. He watched his wife from the bed, that gentle gaze she didn't deserve. "How many words have you spoken with Leo?" he asked.

"Ten, including last night."

"In almost a month."

"I had no reason to debate his logic. He had sound reason to suggest we reconcile."

"What about the times before? You've been slinking around Saisei, actively avoiding him. You hardly have a foundation for rapport, but you're going to visit these survivors? That's a dangerous leap."

"Yes."

"So why do it? Tell Leo you should start with something smaller. Like, oh, I dunno, a conversation that _isn't_ one-sided?"

"It is what he expects." Melody's soft voice blended with muffled beeps from the Lab connected via their closed bedroom door, and she feared to repeat herself when she sucked in shallow air through her teeth.

"This isn't just about him," Don said.

The bed squeaked before the cyborg answered, "Yet it is the least I can offer. I brought him there, Donny. I'm the reason—"

"Enough." Three fingers gripped Mel's flesh shoulder. "Stevens and Lombardo did the damage, encouraged by Tate. You—"

"Owe him what he expects."

"Can you do that?"

"I...don't know, but I should try. Shouldn't I?"

Melody fought the urge to look up from the floor; Donatello's grip slid down her bicep to the metal seam at her elbow and placed a kiss on her forehead that quickened her pulse. She swallowed hard, motionless while her husband tilted her chin upwards.

"Call me if things get bad," he whispered.

Mel nodded.

"Or if you decide you want backup."

Again, Mel nodded.

"And..." Don trailed off when his hands covered hers. "Should you be wearing this?"

"My cloak? Why not? It is practical; ventilated, waterproof, fireproof, pliable kevlar-based polymer with—"

"Interwoven sensor scramblers. Yeah. It's also what scared Phil into thinking a red demon kidnapped Star."

So, the cloak was a psychological trigger? Made sense. Still, it remained as the cyborg's primary protection. Without it, she'd feel too vulnerable to proceed.

"I have an idea," Don said. He flashed a gap-tooth smile then dragged Melody into the basement's Lab.

* * *

Driving from Manhattan to south Brooklyn took well over an hour, and the Battle Shell's passengers had kept quiet the entire way. Leonardo felt he should give Melody a chance to speak. Not long after entering the Mill Basin Neighborhood, though, he realized he'd need to take the lead and with an inward sigh, initiated the van's Stealth-Mode as he parked in a run-down transportation lot behind Harbor Drive. The engine cut off, but even in the persistent silence, the cyborg never questioned why they idled.

"This is it," Leo said. He pointed at a three-story Colonial house whose backyard pool glowed in the dark inside a white-panel fence. "Terry and Jasmine should be home. It's a school night."

"What is your plan?" asked Melody. She kept her tone cool and her focus on the second-story, where shadows danced across the blinds.

"Ultimately? Let the kids know their father meant for them to stay Kims, not Parks."

"Why does that matter? I never used my birth surname."

"Names hold weight. Come on."

Leo exited the Battle Shell then waited for all of five seconds before opening Melody's door. The cyborg hesitated to leave as if her close proximity with the Jonin would burn through her black cloak, and he pulled her out of the passenger seat when he lost patience. Her half-robotic stare cut through the shade cast by her hood, although she remained compliant as the door shut behind her and the duo hopped the fence. Luckily, the back porch light wasn't motion-activated, and Melody's red eye switched to green as she stared up.

"What do you see?" the mutant whispered.

"Little means to climb to the children's bedrooms." There was a short pause. "Does that sound creepy?"

"Uh," Leo trailed off in an attempt to avoid his semi-shame. He admitted their task leaned towards impracticality; kids were alert to stranger danger and parents were unlikely to open their door to cloaked figures who refused to show their faces. "All we have to do is slip a letter inside without causing attention," he added. "And just...see how they're doing."

Melody's eye switched back to red just before young yet loud voices spread downstairs through a cracked window. Light filled the once-dormant level, and the duo took refuge between the sliding-glass doors to avoid it.

"Take it back, Terry!" a girl screamed.

"Why? It's true."

"Is not!"

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Face it, Jazz: he's not coming back!" Little feet marched across the living room, where Melody peered through breaks in the floor-length shutter blinds, to the kitchen on Leo's side. He heard the fridge rattle, although it and Terry remained out of view.

"He told us he would," Jasmine said. The Chinese child peeked over an island counter, a pair of dark eyes narrowed in a glower.

"Years ago," Terry countered. He began to climb one of four bar stools lined at the island's lip but abandoned it when his little sister trotted to his side. "Will you go away?"

Jasmine's braids whipped when her head shook, and she tailed her brother into the living room. "Not until you take it back."

"I won't. He's a lying loser."

"Baba doesn't lie!"

"How would you know? You barely remember him."

"I remember he loves us. He gave me this!"

"Yeah, when you were, like, a baby. When was the last time he even called?"

The night air thickened with Jasmine's pause.

"That's what I thought," Terry continued. His snide tone strengthened as he returned to the kitchen, perhaps in hopes of eating his snack in peace. Jasmine, however, stood behind the bar stool he perched on.

"Why do you gotta be so mean?" she demanded.

"Because you're annoying and stupid," Terry spat without looking over his shoulder. "Just grow up already."

The Chinese girl stomped her foot—an inaudible act. "I'm a big girl."

"Whatever."

"I am!"

"Big girls don't _cry_ , Jazz."

The Chinese boy turned further away from his sister, so he sat sideways, and Jasmine sniffled with such vigor that the noise carried over the pool's humming filter. When she spun, the chandelier light made her red face glisten with tears, which flowed harder as she squeezed an aged rabbit plushy.

Leonardo wanted nothing more than to barge through the door, confess what had happened to Joseph. Leaving wasn't the man's choice; he had been unjustly convicted, robbed of his children, reputation, free will, and life. Now the remnants of his legacy refused to believe he ever cared?

"A letter won't cut it," the mutant said in an undertone. "Maybe we can find a way to speak with Jasmine. She seems—"

Metal scrapped across wooden planks harshly. It brought Leo's attention to the porch, where Melody teetered near the pool's ledge.

"Melody?"

"This was a mistake," the cyborg whispered. She kept wrapped in her cloak and watched Jasmine sob, although her hood shaded her expression.

"They deserve to know," Leo whispered back.

"To what end? Knowing will not resurrect Mister Kim."

"The point was to give the kids peace of mind."

"They will not hear it. Especially from me."

"We need to do this together, Melody."

"No. I—" The cyborg gulped, stumbling when her robotic foot almost slipped into the pool. "I can't."

"None of this would be necessary if you hadn't taken their father in the first place."

All emotion drained from Melody—from her voice to her stance. "He was no father in my mind."

"What was he then? Cattle?" The hooded figure shook, although Leo suspected his guess was accurate. "Joseph was a living being trying to do right in a wrong situation," the Jonin added. "And you snatched him up. Like you had a _right_ to decide who should be a test subject."

"Rights are illusions thrown haphazardly around society," Melody countered. "Everyone thinks they are entitled to them when in reality no one has them. We are given lots in life and only the privilege to change them."

"Oh, so it was your _privilege_ to sentence people to bio-torture."

The concrete pool ledge chipped when the cyborg stalked towards a darker part of the backyard and Leonardo followed, waving away the hem of her cloak when the wind made it billow towards him. "You think it was easy?" she asked.

"You never seemed broken up about it."

"Still, I am not. _That_ bothers me."

"You saying you don't regret anything?"

"I understand what I did was morally wrong."

"Yet it doesn't weigh on you?"

"No." One curt word stilled the mutant and ignited the cyborg's voice. "Life's shitty, Leonardo. One day, you're scrounging for a meal in a bar's back alley, the next you wake with a pain outmatched only by the devastation of the person you offer your heart to say you're 'not a good idea.' I was broken. Mutilated. Strong-armed. Where was _my_ choice?"

Leonardo glared. "So because you hurt, you wanted others to hurt? Fuck, you've compacted a human corpse like a totaled car. That doesn't _haunt_ you?"

"The past cannot be changed."

"So why are you here? Why agree to this? To me?"

"Why did you leave for South America?"

"That—" Leo clenched his jaw, tongue clicking.

"You needed distance to heal," Melody continued. "I need family."

The mutant stepped forward with a hiss. "We are not family."

"But we are similar."

"No. No, we aren't." Leo had heard enough for one night. He spun, heading for Battle Shell in the transportation lot and leaving no chance for the unapologetic cyborg to join.


	5. Run

**A/N:** Ah, D, I was beginning to think you were through with my stories. XD Real quick: that's pretty preceptive about Mel, and as for Leo, he's not more Raph-like. It's the situation and company and his own frustrations. It's like how you feel KNOWING you have to do something hard and what you feel DOING it. You can't really control that and Leo's emotions have been through the ringer, so there's bound to be some instability...He'll even out. Trust me.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 05:** **RUN**

Coyolxauhqui was startled by the mass of her husband's hand when she grabbed it. The three fingers weighed like a bolder and unbalanced her as the ayotl continued to walk towards Saisei's front entrance.

"Sorry, Coyo," Leo said in Nahuatl. He backpedaled so the native no longer arched his direction then gave a boyish grin. "I forget my strength sometimes."

"You are going for a run?" Coyo asked in kind.

"Run?"

"Is that not what Mickey said?"

"My-key."

"That what Coyo say."

"If you think so. And yeah. Except this is no dry run."

"Oh?" The native rubbed her tender muscles that Leo overextended by accident. "Is it a wet run then? Is it raining?"

The blue-masked ayotl burst into a laugh his wife failed to understand. He leaned down to kiss her head, mumbling something about how he managed to laugh without her before. But why? It had been a serious question.

"I mean we have adjusted to the new turf and HUBs," Leo continued. "We are getting back into action, patrolling."

"Stopping criminals?"

"Yup."

"Yaoqui had not given you enough war?"

"Quit with the looks; I already explained. Hey." The leader reached for his lover, great power forcing her to meet his eclipse eyes. "I _will_ come home, Notlanextli. Promise."

Coyo nodded however reluctantly and lost her battle to keep a straight face when Leo thumbed her rounded jaw line.

"I love you," he said. "But I have to go. Jen just picked up Kai, and the guys are waiting."

"Yes, yes." The native stepped away, smiling. "I love you, too, Noyollo. Be careful."

"Careful is my middle name. Ask Raph."

Coyo wanted to, except Raph was joining her husband. Guess she would have to remember the question for another date. Unless someone else knew. Nia, perhaps?

The woman opened her mouth to ask, only to realize her husband had vanished with little more than a breeze dying from the front door. Fine. With a huff, she headed upstairs in search of new company. Twitch glided onto her head once she reached the top platform and she giggled at the skin his paws tickled as he ran across her body.

"Is Yo roosting already?" she asked. The techalotl stared up from her left breast with large, dark eyes, little body pulsing with curt breaths. "I will assume that is a yes. Have you seen my cousin?"

Twitch chirped, and Coyo headed for the baby room while he settled on her shoulder. Inside, she gagged at the air thickened by fumes. It left an aftertaste on her tongue, made her nose burn. How could her sister-cousin stand such a scent?

"Oh, sorry, Coyo-neechan!" Grinding wood sounded. Then, a sudden chill rose goosebumps even under Coyo's long-leg romper. "Sorry," Nia repeated. "I—I get so used to my paints that I forget they aren't the healthiest. Here."

Coyo blinked to clear her vision, accepting the plush blanket her sister-cousin wrapped around her. "Thank you, Teicu."

Nia grinned lopsidedly as Twitch climbed through the native's curls. "This is why Mama decided to nap with the twins in the living room."

"They in living room?"

"I'm...not surprised you didn't notice. It's okay. Must mean they're still sleeping. It gives me time to add some finishing touches. See?"

Nia gestured to a grand mural painted in bright colors across one wall. Usually, the cribs sat flush against it, but they had been moved to a corner and replaced by a stained cloth. Coyo dared step on it, whether its splatters were dry or not, to follow the ayotl warriors posed below a starry sky worthy of Ecuador's rainforest. There was an ethereal feeling about them, a draw in their eyes that made them seem alive.

"I call it 'Guardians,'" Nia said. "I thought it would be comforting, you know? Raph and his brothers are the ones who will always look after the twins. They should be reminded of that."

"Teicu"—Coyo gulped—"paint beautiful."

"Th—thank you. There are still some things I wanna do, though. Care to keep me company?"

The native met her sister-cousin with a nod then sat in a rocking chair by the cribs. Twitch pulled at her curls as he too found a comfortable spot and Coyo took care in leaning back so the techalotl buried in her hair would not be disturbed.

"Coyo-neechan, can I ask you something?"

"Quema."

"What was my mother like? My birth mother, I mean."

"Tacapantzin?"

"Yeah. You grew up with her. You must know something."

Coyo did. Still, she doubted the Tlatlaco wanted to hear about the tainted legacy Tacapantzin left behind when she forsook her people.

"Sh—she did a lot of things wrong, but," Nia continued her work, "I wanna know. I don't remember anything about her. Or my father. Do you—do you know how they met? Or fell in love?"

Rhythmic creaks filled the baby room for a long moment while Coyolxauhqui mauled over the question. "Teo no need male or female, no children. They repurpose life, always adults."

"The Teo are the Languu, right?"

"Quema. They fell from heavens. Our ancestors think them gods. They teach us they not. We learn from each other, make Eztaca. But few Teo see families important. Few want humans close. They frightened."

"Of what?"

"Mozallo. Yohualli."

"Yohualli..."

Nia's whisper held a bitterness that made her brush strokes more forceful, and Coyo watched her sister-cousin's shoulders tense, saying, "Ekeinni different."

"Eh-key-any? I've heard that name before. Bishop mentioned it."

"Ekeinni Auitl's lover."

"Auitl's?"

"Aunt's."

"Ah."

"They no ask permission for Mozallo. They meet in secret."

"A tribal Romeo and Juliet, huh?"

"A who?"

Nia half-laughed when Coyo made a face. "Ne—never mind. Go on."

"Mantli told Coyo Ekeinni wanted to be human, wanted Auitl. Their union no blessed, dangerous. Treason."

"And she didn't care."

The native hummed. "Auitl loving, kind, gentle. But she no leader. Hate war. No fight it. Deny it. Run away."

"Must be genetic."

"Coyo tried."

"No, no, no. I mean me." Coyo cocked her head, and Nia fought a laugh as she added, "Running from problems was something I did a lot of."

"Oh, yes. Mantli fear Coyo like Auitl. May be true. If Coyo no helped."

"Same here. I was forced to see other views, tested. If not for this family, I would have...nothing."

"Yes. Coyo save Leo. Leo save Coyo."

"And Raph saved me." The sister-cousins exchanged grins, although Nia's fell in seconds. "So...if there are no male or female Languu, and they have no children, how was I...?"

Coyo shook her head. "That is barred Rite only eldest Quizzenteo know. Zaddir no knows. Ekeinni never should know."

"You mean he must've made up his own way? Or stole the knowledge?" Slowly, the native nodded, and Nia lowered her voice, "Was I really worth so much trouble? Treason on both sides? How did they justify it?"

"Coyo glad Nia born. She strong. She no run from being Tlatlaco. She embrace it, use it to understand others. She miracle like Selene and Nyx. She no need justified."

"Thank you," the Tlatlaco whispered. And when her smile returned, it stayed.

* * *

Bass beats thumped through Leonardo's bones, despite the song's poor quality and the fact that the tune moved with Michelangelo's erratic fight pattern. "Will you turn that crap off?" the Jonin asked.

The youngest Hamato back-flipped onto a dented Honda then spread his arms, saying, "All heroes need epic theme music, Bro!"

"We're ninjas, not a parade!"

"Oh, come on." The Honda creaked as Mikey cart-wheeled out of range of a crowbar. "Jennifer and I have been working hard on this little ditty. Besides, they already know we're here."

"Jennifer Williams?" Raphael added. He leaned back to avoid a chain whip, landing on his hands to spring his feet into his opponent's chest.

"No, Jennifer Lawrence."

"Who's that?"

Mikey shrugged then knocked another gangster unconscious with his nunchucks.

"Focus," Leo told them. "Mikey. Music. Off. Now."

"Can't." The youngest spun to showcase the boom-box harnessed to his carapace. "My limbs don't bend that way."

"Wanna bet?" Raph questioned.

"I kinda like it," Donatello interjected. He sped between his older brothers, knocking a line of gangers onto their backsides with his bō staff.

"You helped, didn't you?" Leo asked him.

Don met the Jonin's grimace with a gap-toothed grin then rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"Hey, has anyone noticed something?" interjected Mikey.

Raph snorted. "Like the big hole where yer brain should be?"

"Funny."

"I know."

"Mikey makes a point," Don added, bō staff whirling. "We've come across more PDs tonight than Forty-Fours."

"So what, Genius? They go down all the same."

"It's a sign." A final blow rendered the last gangster unmoving against the asphalt, and the resulting stillness made Mikey's theme song that much more prominent as Don continued, "These guys are novices, fresh recruits. But more and more keep popping up."

Raph sheathed his sais, rubbing below the eye-patch wrapped around his scared face. "Yer point?"

"Hun's recovering," Leo said.

Don nodded. "He took a major blow. Between Black Lotus and the gang wars, he lost key players, force, talent, and territory. Thought it'd take longer before people started signing up again."

"New York's a crazy place," Mikey sang along with his tune.

"Yeah," Raph sneered, "just look at the propaganda they got plastered everywhere."

Leo's gaze lingered on a mechanical billboard just beyond the parking lot's chain-link fence. It loomed larger-than-life against the hazy sky and transitioned from EPF recruitment promotions to their latest slogan: Do your part; prove your humanity today!

"That shit's been worryin' the hell outta, Ni," Raph added with a glower.

"It's only a matter of time before she and Sophia have to go," Don said.

Golden eyes narrowed at the genius. "How's that gunna work? Even if they manage ta fool facial recognition, their DNA will still be on record."

"We'll figure something out."

"How?"

"Mel." One name tensed the spring night and dulled Michelangelo's boom-box—at least in Leonardo's perspective. "I'm not a miracle worker," Don added. "I like science, but it's such a vast field, and my passion is for mechanics. I build. I invent. I design. Mel? She works with circuits of another kind. She's a brilliant biologist. Not because she was born with some natural affinity, but because she worked her ass off to understand all she could to help others who couldn't help themselves. That's _her_ passion."

"Where was that passion when she took me?" The Jonin dared for the truth beneath his hard stare, and his purple-masked brother sighed.

"What's done is done."

"Funny; she said something similar when I asked how she felt about compacting a corpse."

"Leo." Don countered the Jonin with an equally as stern expression. "You said you'd give her a chance."

"She's still at Saisei, isn't she?"

"That's not the same, and you know it."

"Why blame me?"

"Because you don't show faith in her!" Don caught himself, mouth agape, fists clenched. His voice wavered, and Michelangelo's song cut off when the genius pushed a button on a device chained to his shoulder strap. "Look. Mel's the kind'a person who needs affirmation. She can't and won't convince herself to trust first. It's her nature. Much like you. I know it's asking a lot for someone who wronged you, but...show her some trust."

"Staying under the same roof isn't trust enough?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Being in the same room isn't proving you recognize her as a doctor let alone sister."

"She isn't either yet." Leo hissed before he realized what he said. Don's face turned stony, much like Melody's, and the Jonin found it impossible to watch. "Sorry."

"You're the only one she hasn't proven herself to," Don spoke in an undertone. "And you won't even let her try."

"She's the one who runs every time I mention visiting another survivor."

"Your trips are only part. She wants to help, Leo. Let her."

"I don't need medication. Right?" Leo sent Raph and Mikey expectant looks, although they hesitated to answer.

"Lots of people use antidepressants nowadays," Don continued. "They'll keep you stable."

"And cloud my mind."

"Not necessarily. At least try it. And for the love of God, stop taking Raph's side whenever she mentions his eye."

"Me 'n my eye are fine," Raph spat.

"That why you haven't let anyone look under the patch?" asked Mike.

The hothead fought the urge to rub the right side of his face. Even Leo admitted he had noticed the swollen skin and how his brother constantly itched.

"I don't need no surgery," Raph spat.

Mike snorted "Says the guy who smells sickly sweet."

"What's that even _mean_ , Shell-for-Brains?"

"You got a funky odor. Worse so than usual."

"I'll show ya funky!"

The hothead pulled his youngest brother into a chokehold, and the two flailed as Don regained Leo's attention with his soft tone. "We all have a role in our clan. Mel found hers long ago. Trust in that purpose. Like we trust Coyo will find where she belongs."


	6. Unwelcome

**A/N:** Sorry, guys. I'm sick. Not like 'cold' or 'flu' sick, but 'can't walk at times, intense pain' sick. So I want to post more often, but some days I just sleep because I feel awful. :( Thanks for the support/reviews, though. Those always make my day!

P.S. - OMG, D. I laughed SO HARD. You're right. I'll change that soon...woops.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 06:** **UNWELCOME**

Aggression fueled Leonardo. Not because he sparred with Raphael; Coyolxauhqui noticed the tension long before they entered the fighters' room, and the buried intensity she sensed through Mozallo made her cringe with every hit he took.

"Go, Daddy, go, Daddy!" Nia cheered. She sat cross-legged on a pillow with Selene in her lap and waved the hybrid's thin arms, cheering again when Raphael dodged his older brother's lunge.

Coyo smiled at them then down at the other twin she held, Nyx. The dark green girl kicked her legs in excitement, gurgled as if asking to join her father. She struggled for freedom her aunt denied her then whined when the native planted her hands under Nyx's armpits, thumbs pressed against the hard shells along her shoulder-blades.

' _How strange it is that she is a mere two moons old,_ ' Coyo thought. ' _She is very strong._ '

"You aren't going to start fighting quite yet, Little Missy," Nia told Nyx. She teased her daughter by poking her chubby cheek, and the hybrid stared up with mismatched eyes. "Don't give me that look. You're still new."

Coyo giggled, more so when Nyx kicked harder. A sudden thump drew all eyes to the match again, though, cutting off any humor. The native watched her husband pin Raphael to the straw floor with unnecessary force, and the red-masked ayotl growled.

"I ain't goin' down in front 'a my women," he spat.

With vigor, he pushed up, swung his heel against the back of Leo's shell, and then head-butted his captor. Coyo made to stand when blood dribbled down her lover's chin, but he held up a hand to signify he was okay.

"Ya deserved that," Raphael said, arm rotating. "Ya about dislocated my socket, Fearless. What the fuck?"

"Language," Nia chided.

The sour-faced ayotl grimaced as his wife directed towards the infants with her eyes then muttered something in return.

"Sorry, Raph," Leo said. "Didn't mean to be so hard."

"Could'a fooled me."

"I'm just a little on edge."

"A little?

"Okay, a lot."

"You nervous about tonight, Leo-niichan?" Leo faced Nia, who smiled sheepishly, adding, "Mel-neechan told me. Yo—you're going to see the teenagers from Hall-F, right? Or at least Paige."

Hand against his temple, the leader sighed. "Hopefully this goes better than our first visit."

"These guys you can talk with, at least," Nia said.

"Still, last I saw them, Paige was screaming at me to help. And Melody put us in a cage."

"Great," Raph drawled, "that should go over well."

"Raph!" Donatello broke away from where he once spared with Michelangelo, expression pointed below his purple mask.

"I'm just sayin', Genius. Gray probably won't be welcome."

"You could 'say' it a little nicer," Nia tacked on.

"What's this? 'Gang Up on Raph Day'?"

"No one's ganging up on anyone," Leo said.

"Uh-huh."

"Really, it's just—" Coyo's husband caught her stare with morose eyes then faced Donny.

"I could come this time," Donny told him.

Blue bandana tails shook with the leader's head. "That'd go against the point."

"I don't know," Mikey added. "Having a buffer may be a good idea."

"No," Leo said emphatically. "Don wasn't part of Hall-F. Melody and I have to do this. Even if she..."

"She what?" asked Donny, cautious.

"We're trying, alright? Forgive us if we aren't eloquent about it."

"Leo," Coyo cooed. She stood after handing Nyx over to Nia then approached her husband. She laid a hand on his sweaty, tense bicep, and he spared her a grin that died in the seconds it took for him to meet his brothers' stares.

"This is only our second trip," he continued.

"And it's a lot of stress," Donny said. "For everyone."

"Especially since their last drive," grumbled Raph. Both Donny and Mikey jabbed an elbow into his side.

"Family isn't easy, Leo-niichan." Nia joined the group with a melon-sized hybrid curled along each breast, smiling up at the leader. "Give her time. You, too. It'll get easier."

Leo gave a wry smile. "I wanna believe that."

"You can. You do. Even if you don't know it. Right, Coyo-neechan?"

Coyo hummed in confusion rather than understanding. Nia spoke too quickly to grasp what she meant, and the topic dropped as easily as the knot in the native's stomach. Leo watched his family, particularly his nieces, while reaching for Coyo's hand. She gave him comfort through their touch and couldn't help but imagine a day where he would look down at their children with as much love and hope.

"Alright," Leo said, "warm-ups are over. It's time we tag-team. Raph and Mikey against Don and me."

"No way, dude," Mikey complained. "That's unfair."

"Shell-for-Brains has a point," Raph agreed. "Ya can't have two Recro-12 weirdoes on one side."

"It'd be a disadvantage even _if_ Raphy Boy wasn't half-blind."

"I ain't half-blind."

"No? Why the eye patch then?"

The red-masked ayotl scoffed, rubbing around the black patch strapped over his right socket.

"Well, we aren't the only altered ones," Donny noted, brown eyes set on Mikey.

"You mean my legs?" the jester asked. "So they keep me from breaking when I jump off a building. They don't give me the ability to heal overnight or leap through the air like Silver Sentry. Seriously, why do you two get the superhero enhancements?"

Leo fought a grin, despite how tightly he held his wife. With a final squeeze, he separated himself then squared his shoulders as he reassured Coyo through a look. She nodded, and Nia's wide hips nudged her towards the doorway.

"Let the boys train," the Tlatlaco said.

Coyo hesitated to follow her sister-cousin's lead, but a sudden weight in her arms jolted her to attention. She drew Selene close, warmed by the hybrid's wide-eyed expression.

"He's in good company," Nia added. "Come on. Let's go check on Twitch."

* * *

Senator Brooks' Park Avenue duplex was well-fortified. With security details and cameras posted at every corner of the twelve-story building, Melody doubted she and Leonardo would make it far undetected. And yet they scaled the smooth architecture without incident.

"There." Melody gestured to an open window on the middle row corner.

"You sure?" Leonardo asked.

"If you do not believe me, we could turn back."

The Jonin snorted but then followed the light that streamed from inside to enter a sitting room lavishly decorated with velvet furniture and Victorian-era accents. ' _Wonderful,_ ' the cyborg thought with a frown. ' _Where do we go now?_ '

"Paige, I swear." Harsh taps hit the polished floor beyond the sitting room. "I won't have this argument again."

"But, Daddy—"

"No."

"Your job is to protect!" Paige sounded as regal as Melody remembered, even in urgency. The cyborg peered around a curved archway into the foyer where the strawberry-blonde clung to her father's suit.

"Listen," Senator Brooks said, "I've been patient with you given your...incident."

"Incident? I was fucking _kidnapped_!"

"And I searched hard for you. You think I wasn't a mess, that I didn't suffer?" The way the grayed gentleman spoke made Mel believe otherwise. "We dedicated numerous resources to find you. The one that helped the most was the EPF."

"You can't partner with them."

"I'm aiming to be re-elected for Counter-Terrorism and Public Protection, everything the EPF embodies."

"They only care about humans."

"And present a foothold with Mayor Powell. See? This is why you'd make a poor politician, Paige. You're too idealistic."

"We shouldn't be glamorizing prejudice."

"Against what? Granted, this city has seen strange happenings: the so-called Hollow's Eve Demon, the Little Reds, Phantoms, these increasing Prowlers. They're all urban legends. Just like that turtle mutant you claim saved you."

' _She talked about Leonardo? I thought she told Hugh she would not._ ' Mel shared a look with the Jonin then watched Senator Brooks pull a trench and fedora off a golden coat rack.

"Leonardo is real," Paige insisted. She attempted to spin her father. When she failed, she blocked the ornate entrance, arms outstretched.

"Please, stop," Senator Brooks said. "You're lucky I don't institutionalize you."

"I'm not crazy."

"You went through something traumatic, I know. But remember what Doctor Vigue told us."

"He _wasn't_ a shared dilution."

"There is no other explanation. Now," the Senator rightened, "never bring this up again, or Geronimo here will be barred from our house."

"Geronimo was Apache, Senator," added a muffled male voice. "I'm Oneida."

The grayed gentleman formed a snide smile then gently pushed his daughter aside. "I'll be home late. Don't wait up."

The door clicked shut—a soft sound accentuated by the dead silence left behind. It made Melody tingle, and Paige groaned, turning her attention to where footfalls descended the marble staircase.

"Always the charmer, that one," the same male voice said.

"He's still so selfish."

"Least you have me." Quill emerged into sight to gather the strawberry-blonde in a tight hold. He stroked her hair, placed a kiss on her temple, until Leonardo's movement ruined the tender moment. He caught Paige's interest, and with each step he took, the further the lovers separated.

"Leonardo?" Paige asked. "You're back?"

' _No shit._ ' Mel swallowed her dry comment, opting to stay hidden.

"When did—?" The strawberry blonde glanced at Quill then ahead again. "Ho—how did you know where I lived?"

"Your father's a Senator," Leonardo said with mild humor. "He has a public profile."

"Oh. Right. It's just, uh...I didn't expect this. It's been a long time."

"Almost sixteen months."

"I thought you forgot about us."

"No." Leonardo took another step forward. "I forgot myself."

"Are you...?" Paige looked up at the mutant, her voice as weak as her knees. "Better? Detective Reese said you left for South America. Did it help? What did you find?"

The Jonin smiled; it translated through the way he spoke, "I found much more than I ever hoped. Part of that was thanks to you."

"Me?"

"You don't have to be worthy to save others, just willing. Sound familiar?"

The teenager chuckled, disbelief strangling the mirth. "You listened."

"Not at first. In time. It's a personal mantra now when I meditate. Thank you."

"Shouldn't the thanks be the other way around?" Quill interjected. He kept at a distance, tanned features schooled. "You and your brothers are the ones who rescued us, shut down Black Lotus. We owe _you_ our lives."

"And I owe _you_ for believing in me even when I didn't," Leonardo countered. "Though I can't do much. Just make sure you're okay. And..." Umber eyes found Melody in the archway's shadows—so pointed that the teenagers gasped when their eyes widened.

"What the hell is _she_ doing here?" asked Quill. He pulled his lover back by the arm and glared at the redhead whose Ayannite feet clicked against the wood floor.

"Melody is here for the same reason I am," Leonardo said. "To ensure you're okay."

Mel kept her gaze cool and her mouth shut, even though the Jonin was far from the truth.

"You expect us to believe she's a good guy?" Paige asked.

"Good?" Leonardo sent Mel a cursory yet telling glance. He didn't see her as good nor bad and fumbled for an explanation. So be it.

"I fought against Black Lotus in the end," the cyborg said.

Paige scrunched her pretty face. "Not before crushing Matthew, killing Joseph, and breaking Leonardo, though."

' _Why must everyone mention Matthew? He had been no one special._ '

"And think," Paige continued, "those are just the crimes in Hall-F."

"I am not claiming innocence."

"Then why aren't you in prison?"

"Tate is serving her sentence, and the other scientists were crushed."

"That doesn't explain _you_."

"I was a tool, Miss Brooks. Nothing more."

"So you hold no accountability? Great. Maybe you and Dad should get together and compare notes."

"Paige, Paige." Quill gathered the strawberry-blonde in his long arms, although her persistent glare remained as Leonardo leaned into the cyborg.

"Tell them," he whispered.

Tell them what? She had practiced no lines before leaving Saisei.

"Just apologize."

Oh; Mel faced the teenagers. "Sorry."

"You sound it," Paige spat.

The strawberry blonde wrinkled her nose as if daring the cyborg to discredit her, but Melody refused to indulge. She could fake emotion no more than she could force it, and words—empty or otherwise—were all she could offer.

"She means it," Leonardo interjected, although it sounded like he meant to convince himself.

"Really?" asked Quill. "Because it seems to me like she doesn't feel anything."

Well, they were not wrong. Mel looked at the young lovers and thought back to Hall-F without difficulty. Their tear-filled eyes and haggard demeanor had affected her no more than watching flowers wilt. She had felt apart from them, inhuman. At least until Leonardo's health declined...

"Leave." Everyone faced Paige. She spoke with vindication worthy of a queen and stared down Melody. "You are welcome, Leonardo. She is not."

"But _we_ came to—"

" _You_ came to check on us. Her? She's a tool. What does a tool care?"

Mel met Paige's blue eyes—a steely color much like her own, yet brightened by emotion, not dulled like the one that stared back at the cyborg in the mirror. "Very well," she said. Leonardo turned, inhaling, and she cut off his protest, "I will return home. I have studies, anyway."

Mel hesitated when she caught the teen's gazes. Should she bid them goodbye? No. Pleasantries would be pointless, and Leonardo would see her later. She had no choice except leave silently; maybe some time alone would help her figure out why the moment felt so awkward.


	7. Melody

**A/N:** Nothing is easy. That's life. It's something Mel, Leo, and I have in common right now. And it's painful for all. Thanks for the well-wishes, though.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 07:** **MELODY**

Leonardo felt lethargic from insomnia yet if he forced sleep, he'd just face more nightmares. ' _One of these days something has to go right, doesn't it?_ '

"Why the sighs, my son?"

Heavy-lidded, Leo looked across the living room to his father in a recliner, gaze set on the slumbering hybrid curled against his chest fur. "Selene passed out fast."

Splinter chuckled. "She is the most trusting and comfortable of the twins."

"So what does that make you?" Leo asked Nyx. The ten-week-old girl pouted with a grunt like a restless bulldog. "You may have one eye the color of your mother's, but you are so much like Raph, it scares me. You got any idea what kind'a pain you could grow up to be?"

Nyx flailed her legs, kicking into her uncle's plastron.

"She refuses to sleep until her parents return," Splinter added.

"Yeah," Leo said, "even though she's barely hanging on to consciousness."

"Maybe you both should be asleep."

The Jonin groaned then resituated on the couch with Nyx sat on his thigh. He heard Yolotli ruffle his feathers behind his head, although the McCaw remained perched on Leo's nuchal scute.

Splinter chuckled. "I thought parrots favored one person."

"Why I'm so lucky to be his additional favorite is beyond me. I think he's jealous of Twitch. He can't sleep in Coyo's hair like a Flying Squirrel, so the next best thing is to use my carapace as a roost. I guess."

"Animals choose who they want, I guess."

"Like how Pez is technically Nia's yet sleeps with you?"

The rat's snout crinkled with a smile, and his free paw fell to the armadillo-piranha-pig nuzzled into the space between his haunches and the armrest, nails stroking its grooved hide. "Do not assume I missed how you failed to answer my question."

Leo tensed. "It's nothing. Just...tired."

"I am no fool, Leonardo."

"I know."

"Then why treat me like one?"

' _This is what I get for taking babysitting duty from Mike._ '

"Leonardo."

"Hai, hai." Leo rolled his head then let sent his father a defeated look that made Nyx giggle. "It's Melody."

Splinter hummed. "I guessed as much. You and Melody-san have been at worse odds since you returned from the Brooks."

"Paige kicked her out. She claims it didn't bother her, but...I—I don't know. It's like we're not making progress, running in place, and..." The mutant sighed. "It's tiring. Should we even try again?"

"That, my son, is something only you and Melody-san can answer. Together."

"Together is hard."

"The most rewarding things in life are rarely easy."

"She _kidnapped_ me, Otōsan." Nyx squirmed, perhaps sensing her uncle's unease when his stare turned sharp. "These visits were supposed to help. Instead, they've brought to light just how much that woman screwed us up."

"And as difficult as it has been for you, have you wondered that perhaps Melody-san is affected too?"

"She doesn't feel guilty. She told me as much."

"Guilt is but one way to be affected."

"Sometimes I feel like you take her side because she saved your life."

Snap! Leo flinched at the sound of his father's tail against the concrete and felt Nyx jolt in his hold. The hybrid whined, tiny fingers beating her uncle.

"I never take sides when it comes to my children," Splinter said.

"Children?" Leo whispered.

"Hai. Leonardo." The old master didn't continue until he regained his son's attention. "I faced trouble as well. It made me ache to think of what Melody-san made you endure, and yet I did not judge her on that one act."

"It was multiple 'acts,' actually."

"People are more than the sum of a few bad decisions. There will always be a path to redemption."

"That's like saying Bishop could be our ally."

"He could. That is not to say it would be easy to accept his trust. Still, it _is_ possible. Unlikely, yet possible. And Melody-san had not wronged our clan for nearly as many years."

"So you simplify things by thinking 'at least she's not as bad as Bishop.'"

"None of this is simple, Leonardo. You may need to accept that you and Melody-san are destined to stand at odds for years to come. All I can do is share my experiences. She did save me. I watched her fall to the brink of madness to do so, and know without a doubt that, like you, she would do _anything_ to protect what she cherishes. My son," Splinter sighed, "she hurt you, although you were also not the only one harmed. Please, think on that. Consider the story's other side."

"That other side seems pretty emotionless," Leo spat.

"Then you do not see beyond your pain."

"It's hard to notice anything else."

"Yes, it is. Which is why until you try, you will not see anything more."

Leonardo sank backward with a deflating sigh as the front door opened. Just once he wished his father would forsake neutrality, back up his son. But the rat was an understanding master, and Leo knew he'd need to be just as understanding to lead his clan in the way of Bushido.

* * *

Saisei's—what had Don called it?—'Lab' felt as unnatural to Coyolxauhqui as the Yaoqui's underground fortress. She had to remind herself that she walked into friendly territory whenever she slipped by the bookshelf disguised as a door and again whenever she rounded the corner at the stair's base to enter the room at the path's end. With a deep inhale, she ignored the many blinking colors, boxes, ropes, and alien-shaped instruments to approach Melody at a metal table so polished, it acted as a mirror.

"What?" Melody asked. She kept focused on a thick-spine book, flipping the pages with silvery fingers. "You are not due for another physical yet."

Coyo tilted her head. "Fiss-ee-call? Oh. When you take Coyo's blood?"

"That was part of it. Your feet bothering you?"

"Feet?" The curly-haired woman glanced down. The blistered skin over her ankles had a dull sheen with pockets of red. The burns felt tight and ached, although Melody had insisted the discomfort would pass. "Walk okay."

"They no longer want to curl inward?"

"No."

"Are you here about Twitch then?"

"Uh..."

"I told you: I am no veterinarian. But he was more shocked than harmed. If he seems stressed, that is because Yolotli hunts him."

"Oh, Yo no hunt Twitch. Play."

"Uh-huh."

"They friends."

Melody sighed as she leaned back in her chair. "Alright. I give. What do you want?"

"Want?"

"You're more of a parrot than your pet. Yes. Want. Why are you here? This isn't the type of place you like."

True. Coyo feared she'd never grow accustomed to the instant torches, people in boxes, talking books, constant hums, oily stank, and cool temperatures. Even now, her throat swelled under Melody's inorganic stare—a metal socket stuffed with a demonic red glow. Yet she smiled all the same, which forced Melody to make a face.

"No lonely?" Coyo asked.

"I am not nearly as sociable as you," the Ayannite woman answered. "I am sure you had been warned."

"Warned? Like Mel-dee threat?"

"Depends on who you ask." Despite the dead tone, Coyo sensed aggravation and sorrow under its surface, which added a melancholy to the Ayannite woman when she returned to jotting notes on colorful, square parchments.

The curly-haired native found a stool to sit on, almost tipping over when it rolled across the smooth floor. "Coyo curious," she said. She flexed her core then pushed herself towards Melody with her tip-toes. "Want to know Mel-dee."

Melody snorted.

"Tlen?"

"People don't go out of their way to _know_ me."

"Mel-dee believe like Leo." Coyo smiled, though the Ayannite woman sent a sidelong look. "Leo think same once. Not trust Coyo. No like Coyo."

"Until your good heart turned him around. How romantic." What made less sense: the phrase 'turned him around' or how flatly Melody spoke? "I lack that advantage," she added. "May as well quit while ahead."

"Ahead of what?" Brows furrowed, Coyo watched Melody scoff. "Mel-dee know Mozallo?"

"The alleged empathetic symbiosis that seems more like a psychosomatic dilution?"

"A...what?"

"Mental illness. Yes, I have heard of it."

"When Leo and Coyo bond, Coyo see Leo's memories. See Black Lotus. See Mel-dee."

"Then you understand why he may never accept me and what makes this whole conversation moot."

Coyo had no idea what 'moot' meant, but it sounded negative, and she leaned her elbows on the cold table to study Melody's profile. "Coyo help."

"And here I was continuing to think that your nosiness was an exaggeration."

"Coyo see pain through Leo's eyes. Mel-dee's pain."

Melody kept quiet. Perhaps in annoyance or disbelief. As if the tribeswoman would be deterred.

"Leo no accept help either," Coyo said. "Not for many sun cycles. Scared. Sad. Confused. He no help himself. Need friends. Mel-dee need friends too."

"Your efforts would be better spent elsewhere. Like with Michelangelo or your cousin."

"Mickey and Nia no need me."

"It's 'My-key.'"

"That what Coyo say."

The Ayannite woman snorted. "I have no problems being alone."

"Leo say same. He and Mel-dee very similar. Hmm?" Coyo's smile grew while leaning forward. Her weight shifted sideways when her stool rolled out from under her, although strong arms and determination settled her back into position. "Coyo feel Leo's conflict. It hurt his chest. He no know what to do. But Coyo no here for Leo. Here for Mel-dee."

"Why?"

"Why not?"

Melody's book snapped shut as the cyborg's voice grew heated, "You admit you've seen what I did, what Leonardo went through. Why would his wife act as if none of that matters?"

"Leo upset Mel-dee no regret. Mel-dee upset she no _feel_. Quema?" Coyo rested her chin on her crossed forearms, despite how her eyes ached when she looked up at Melody. She could hardly spot the frown beneath the reddish hair tousled over the metal half of the Ayannite woman's face, although her downturned lips were too prominent to miss.

"Get to your point," Melody spat. "Olson has me on a strict schedule to have my license by the time Baker opens his practice."

"Coyo jealous."

"Of?"

"No regret," Coyo spoke so softly, the hums of Lab machines almost drowned her voice. But Melody's head jerked downwards, so her organic eye focused on the native. "No regret easier."

"It is not a conscious choice," Melody countered.

"No."

"You say that like you understand."

"Do."

"How? Name one thing we have in common?"

"Ayannite. Mel-dee armor from Teo the K'ekchi protect. Once protect."

"This"—the Ayannite woman sneered—"body also wasn't my choice."

"If no choice, why blame Mel-dee?" Melody's rigid form slouched, bringing her to eye level with Coyo when the native sat upright. "Coyo see much sadness in life. Hope lost. People kill. Mantli, Mother, decay. Omipalan rot her bone. No cure."

"Like Cancer," whispered Melody.

"Teh-awk-ch, uh, older brother sick, too. Left him."

"For Leonardo."

"K'ekchi now Pesto. Teachcauh die. Teicu grow old. No one understand Tlaloc. Coyo wish she no regret, wish she peaceful. Wish no hurt like when she kill Tatli."

"Tatli?"

"Father."

"You...killed your father?"

Coyolxauhqui shook her head. What was she doing? She had no idea anymore, save for wanting the Hamatos as connected as her former tribe.

"Guess we have things in common after all," Melody continued. She gave a smile, somewhat, then reopened her book. Was it her intent to not push the subject further? Or did she mean for Coyo to elaborate on her own will? The native would rather save the story for another day, and Melody's semi-grin seemed to show respect for the decision.

"Coyo sorry. Only want to help."

"You and Nia are definitely related."

"Coyo like Nia."

"Another commonality we share."

The semi-smile grew—infectious and promising while Coyo pulled her ayotl-shaped Ocarina from her romper. "Donny says Mel-dee like music."

Melody focused on the instrument with bemusement. "That a turtle?"

"Coyo share K'ekchi songs, quema?"

"Folk songs? Sure." The Ayannite woman grew silent as Coyo filled her Ocarina with homesick notes and steady breath.


	8. Rainbow

**A/N:** Rymes are most welcome, _D_ ; no need to apologize. Now, watch some light slowly spread over these two hot messes...

* * *

 **CHAPTER 08:** **RAINBOW**

Melody approached a townhouse in East Harlem—wooden porch sun-bleached, brick walls chipped and barred windows flexing from nearby trams and overcrowded occupants on both sides. Leonardo knocked on the entrance, at the landing beyond its shallow steps. The sound went unnoticed. Maybe because of an irate mother inside, a fear that the grunge door would cave under higher pressure, or the fact that the Jonin hesitated to part his cloak in the dwindling sunlight.

"We're wearing light refractors," Melody said.

"Whether or not we're recorded, I still feel exposed," the Jonin countered. "We already look shady."

True. Still, the entrance along Astor Row swung open as if the aged greeter had expected worse. "Little late for Halloween, ain't it?" she asked, fat lips downturned. "And April Fools."

"Is this the O'Malley household?" asked Leonardo.

"If you're here to rob the place, have at it. Find anything valuable, let us know; 'cuz I ain't seen jack shit beyond the diaper piles and medical bills."

"Natalia, enough," an older man interjected. He sounded far younger than Chandler—looked it, too—although Melody admitted the hobo had seemed to age exponentially under Lombardo's tests. "I'm Rodger O'Malley," he added. "What do you want?"

"Just a moment of your time," Leonardo said.

"Time's a commodity, Sir. And I'm not sure I should give it to someone who hides their face. Now if you'll excuse me—"

Rodger meant to shut the door, except Melody used her foot as a chock, saying, "This is about Chandler."

The old man looked up with the same eyes as Chandler: a crystal blue free of cataracts yet drained by as much defeat. "What do you know about my brother? He send you?"

"Well—"

Rodger interrupted the Jonin. "He did. Over a decade. Still won't face us. Coward. Bet you work for a loan shark. Huh? Well, fuck 'em. We don't have money. There's no point, so take your pound of flesh. Drown him. Skin him. Whatever. I'm _through_ with his messes. He can go rot under a bridge!"

"That's kind'a what happened."

"What?" The old man's whisper was dampened by passing traffic and a look that convinced the cyborg he cared for his stray family after all. "What do you mean?"

"Over a year ago," Melody said. Since Leonardo struggled with the emotional recall, she supplied the details, in accordance with a false demise.

"He was sick that bad and never..?"

The cyborg watched Rodger trail off with a furrowed brow. Why would the news bother him when he so vehemently wished ill on his older brother not five minutes ago? Emotions; what problematic things.

"He, uh," Leonardo shifted on the stoop, "he knew you all were struggling. And the disease was terminal. So."

"Why wait a year to tell me this?"

"It was in his will," Mel said. She shared a look with Leonardo, a subtle exchange done while the old man looked down.

"Chandler was disinherited. He had nothing to leave behind." Rodger's initial skepticism grew tenfold with the creases in his spotted forehead, and Leonardo spoke quickly when the homeowner recoiled.

"He told me to tell you sorry."

"Right."

"No, wait!" The Jonin's superior strength outmatched an older gentleman's, and it kept the door open. "He told me he didn't want his nephew thinking of him as a High Roller uncle who destroyed his future. He was egotistical. An asshole that didn't deserve the forgiveness he was asking. And he sucked at gambling."

Slowly, Rodger let the door sway, his creased face flush like his white dress shirt.

"He was sorry, Mister O'Malley," Leonardo whispered. "Wholeheartedly. And his last thought was of his family. His nephew."

"And why do you care so much to tell me this, Stranger?"

"I knew Chandler before he died. We both did. It just," Leonardo exhaled, "it feels like his spirit can't rest until you know, make amends."

"Amends with a dead man?"

"It's a strange request, I admit. But..." The two grew so silent, melodic notes from the townhouse living room drifted into the foyer. "Wizard of Oz?" Leo asked.

"My son's favorite," Rodger answered. "Chandler loved it, too. They actually have a lot in common."

"That doesn't have to be a bad thing."

"Guess not. Thanks, you two, for coming. Whatever delayed you...doesn't matter. You've given me a lot to think about."

"Good day, Mister O'Malley," Leo said. He backpedaled as the front door clicked shut and Melody stepped off the porch, staring up at a faint rainbow nestled in pastel-colored clouds.

* * *

Leonardo's feet sunk into the Reservoir's bank, its mud pliable from recent rains, while Melody trotted to a woody area littered by fallen trees. She peered around and within logs and snags, and the louder the pond current grew in his ears, the more Leo realized he had talked about the cyborg than to her, especially since their visit to Paige and Quill.

"You lie awfully easy for someone who claims they prefer truth," he said.

"It was not a complete lie," Melody replied. "Chandler was sick."

"Not by natural causes."

The cyborg ducked her head under a rotten Red Maple. "Would you rather I have left the explanation to you?" Leo soured; somehow Melody sensed it. "Thought so."

"Those the sort of half-truths you'll tell patients at Baker's clinic?"

"Course not." The redhead erected like a meerkat. "Those people will be coming to me for answers they cannot afford elsewhere."

"And like any decent, free service, you wouldn't dare appease them."

"They deserve more."

"Like those people kidnapped for Black Lotus?"

"We are all children of circumstance."

"That what you tell yourself when you go to sleep?"

Melody turned away from Leonardo's narrowed gaze when the reeds at her side shifted. She shed her cloak then slipped into the murky water up to her knees, face hidden by her metallic profile and matted, auburn locks.

"I don't"—the Jonin pulled his feet out of the sinking ground—"I don't get it. I try and try, but I don't. Can't."

"Get what?" the cyborg asked. Although, Leo had a feeling she knew.

"Everyone says to give you a chance. I swear, though, they all see something different in you. They have views where somehow you stand under an acceptable light. Me? When I look at you, all I can see is..."

"Ever consider that is one thing we share in common?"

"No. Wanna know why?" The mutant hardly gave Melody a chance to raise her face, let alone give an answer. "Because when I think back on those days, I _feel_."

"Do not assume you know my emotions," Melody countered.

"What emotions? You've already admitted you lack guilt. Without guilt, how can you seek forgiveness?"

Water sloshed as the cyborg parted reeds. "What is forgiveness? What does it matter? In retrospect, it is selfish; something to make you feel better, even if the offended party refuses to reciprocate your intents. Like with Miss Brooks."

"It's admitting you were wrong."

"Wrongness is a perspective. The Nazis believed they were righteous when the rest of the world deemed them monsters. So do you consider right a matter of consensus?"

"It's morality."

"Whose?"

Leonardo scoffed. "I—I don't know. God's? Good people? It's...It's in what I believe, my code: Bushido. That may not matter to the rest of the world, but this is my world, my reality."

"Tell me," Melody lulled, "in your 'reality,' have you ever believed harm was justified?"

Yes, plain and simple. The Jonin had used harm to curb criminals, as self-preservation, to protect loved ones, and for a time...considered harming himself. That did not mean he took joy in pain, though. Not the sadistic kind, anyhow.

"Me too," Melody added in a voice almost lost to disturbed reeds. "So how can you judge me?"

"I want to understand why. No." Leo stepped forward as the redhead sunk further back into the Reservoir. "I _need_ to. And if you can't give me an answer, why bother making these trips?"

"Does why _really_ matter?" A touch of heat sharpened Melody's tone and stare. "Why will not change what was. Don rejected me because"—she swallowed—"your idiot brother influenced him into believing human/mutant relations were impossible. Whether or not he admitted that upfront would not have lessened his blow. How I feel now will not change how I felt or what I did a year ago. What matters is the present. What we fight for."

"Or destroy."

"I know what you're doing." Anger took hold completely, turning the cyborg as red as her half-shaven hair. "People have done it all my life. Your brother did it as well. Wanna hear what I told him?"

Leo jutted his chin outwards with a snide smile.

"I have no regret," she continued. "Stephens stole that ability from me. And I see no reason to miss it. Even Coyo has said she envied that."

"Coyo?" Leo whispered.

"Beliefs aren't stagnant, Leonardo. Neither are people. They morph. Like opinions. We live through passages of time, act on feelings and reasons accordingly. No one is ever justified. That's also an opinion. What I did..." Melody waded through the reeds, heading for the bank before pausing. "I had no belief in any morality. I wanted to _die_. Can you say you have no idea what that's like?"

The Jonin's lips formed a tight line. Why did the cyborg seem to understand more than he ever told her? His suicidal thoughts and cynical behavior had been kept confidential between him and his brothers. The only other person who knew was...

' _Coyo, you motor-mouth._ '

"I didn't care, Leonardo. I was a shell, a dead spirit stuck in _this_." Ayannite metal clanked as Melody formed fists and her shoulders hunched with a vulnerability heard in her words. "I didn't agree to these visits to clear my conscious. I came to clear yours, see the effects of what I stole, to help."

"Do you know how surreal that is to hear?"

"Almost as surreal as seeing the twins for the first time?"

"Yeah." Leo fought a smile. "Like that."

Timidly, the redhead's gaze lifted, her chin ducked. "I'm here for you," she said. "For Donny. For Nia. Mikey, Splinter, and Raphael. In this passage of time, I want to help."

"What about the next 'passage'?"

"Guess you'll influence that, won't you?"

Dear Lord, did this woman give Donny as much of a headache as she did him? The Jonin rubbed his temple, half-paying attention to the cyborg who climbed over a snag.

"There you are!" she called out.

"What are you _doing_?" Leo added.

He caught a glimpse of red hair as Melody kneeled and his unfortunate curiosity drew him towards her. He rounded the snag on the bank-side then peeked into a massive Elm trunk with dead branches and a dry-rotted, flexed base. Inside rested several ducklings huddled against their mother, who puffed with a hiss when Leo tried to near as close as Melody.

"You've been looking for ducks?" he asked at a distance.

"Aix sponsa," Melody answered. "Wood Ducks."

"Okay. And they're special because?"

"I keep a record of the mother. Wanted to know if she crafted her nest in a higher spot this year."

"Like normal Wood Ducks?" Leo glanced down at the hissing bird. "Doesn't look it."

"I will have to note she still fears nesting high."

"Wait. How many years have you done this?"

"I—" the cyborg fumbled for words. How unusual. "Don and I set her broken leg once. Before we were friends."

"That was some time ago. She got a name?"

"She is not a pet."

"Then how do you know it's the same duck?"

"The tag on her foot. See?"

If by 'tag' Melody meant a zip-tie colored with a magic marker, then yes. Leo chose not to comment on it, though, and hummed.

"I monitored her to ensure the brace would not cripple her leg as she matured. By then guarding became...habit. I keep this part of the Reservoir preserved. Watch her eggs hatch. See her raise her young. Year after year, even if she sticks to the ground. How strange is it?" The redhead brought a hand to stroke the mother duck. "Her lineage could have ended with one fall. A brace changed her destiny."

"You should stuff that in a fortune cookie," Leo jabbed. He could've sworn he saw Melody crack a smile. Then again, that could've been because of the trust the duck showed when she left her young to lift into the rainbow sky.


	9. Truce

**A/N:** Kind'a curt this time around, but it is what it is. Glad to see you ell enjoyed the little ray of hope. Here's another. ;)

* * *

 **CHAPTER 09:** **TRUCE**

"What're these called in Nahuatl again, Tatuaggi?"

"Toe-calk."

"And that's for all spiders?"

"Most." Coyolxauhqui smiled, watching in fascination as Cuddles marched up the native's arm. "Why she has seven legs?"

Soap leaned against the table where the tocatl's glass habitat sat. "Well, she has seven and a half, technically. She was born that way."

"So pretty." Coyo lifted her arm to see how the bedroom lights reflected off the semi-transparent hairs along the albino's body. It added an elegant glow enhanced by black markings—a regality any other tocatl would envy. "White tocatl like Cuddles sacred. K'ekchi never eat them."

"Uh...did you just say eat?"

"Large tocatl have much meat. Perfect when roasted and seasoned."

"...Give me back my spider."

"Eh?"

"Now!"

Coyo slipped a hand under Cuddles, so she began her journey up the native's other arm. "No worry; Coyo no eat. Cuddles precious to Soap."

"So- _ff_. And if you so much as look upstairs next time you're hungry, I'll—"

"Cuddles family. Quema?"

The yellow-haired woman eyed Coyo yet returned to her position against the table. "Don't forget it, either."

"Never."

"Pazza. That tree rat still in your hair?"

"Twitch? He asleep."

"In your hair."

Coyo failed to understand why Soap made such a face; she saw no harm in allowing the techalotl refuge since Yolotli stressed him with play. Besides, he added a layer of warmth along her neck.

"You know," added Soap, "it's hard to believe you were a leader of a war against the EPF. You're unlike any leader I've ever known. Except for those in magical girl Animes."

"Ah-knee-may?"

"Japanese animations. You might like them, actually. It's drawn art, not actors, so it may not freak you out as much. Style-wise, anyway. I make no promises about their stories."

"Oh."

Coyo nodded more so in pretend than comprehension, and the yellow-haired woman smiled wryly, saying, "It's admirable, though. I'm a little jealous, to tell the truth."

The native cocked her head, allowing Cuddles to scale her frayed curls. "Why?"

"You didn't let war change your values," Soap continued. "Me? I fought them for a fraction of the years you did, and it only worsened my cynicism. If had I grown up that way, I don't think..." She sighed. "I see why Marco had a change of heart when he stole that stone."

' _Stone?_ '

"Remember, Tatuaggi? My ex took it from those aliens."

"Aliens called Teonanemi," Coyo said sternly.

"Or Languu. But." Soap shrugged. "I don't mean any disrespect. You've probably heard about all this from Figo and Calza, though. It's just crazy how we're all tied to them in one way or another. Even crazier to think the stone I kept around my neck for years was actually a weapon."

"A weapon Yaoqui now have."

"I didn't lose it on purpose."

"Coyo know." The native gave into a sigh, glancing downwards at the empty glass box as she felt Cuddles' weight crawl down her bicep. "War not over. K'ekchi hide, but Yaoqui here, too. Coyo never escape."

"Least you're in good company, right?" When the curly-haired woman glanced up, Soap winked. It reminded the once-chief of Izel and warmed her with a smile. "But it could be better, huh? If Capo and Sorriso would call a truce already. Your tartaruga mention anything about their headway? Any progress at all?"

What did Soap mean by 'headway'? Was it the direction one faced? Why did that matter? And who did she mean? Coyo knew no one by the name 'Tar-tar-ooga.'

"Tartaruga," Soap repeated. "Turtle. Capo." The native stared blankly until the yellow-haired woman groaned. "Leo and Melody! How are they doing?"

"Doing what?"

"Mio Dio, Tatuaggi. Their visits! Has Leo talked about them with you? Does it seem to help? Are they going out again? Give me some details; they've both been tight-lipped about it."

Coyo chose to ignore the odd phrase 'tight-lipped,' focusing instead on the conflict she sensed inside her husband. "Leo confused. He no sure what he feel. Make him restless, keep him awake at night."

"He needs to figure things out already. Don't know how much longer I can stand the tension. It brings everybody down."

"Down where?"

"I swear one of these days we're going to make you a slang handbook. My point? The sooner Capo straightens things out with Sorriso, the better. I get bad crap happened between 'em. That's family, though. Okay, so she did little more than borrow some clothes without permission, _Dina_ , or eat the last pudding cup when you left a note on it saying you'd eat it after school, _Adamo_...where was I going with this? Oh! We all do shitty things. Can you say you haven't done anything you regret?"

Coyo shook her head under Soap's green-brown stare and did not speak because she lost her voice to the memory of warm blood coating her hands.

"Thought so. Hell, Marco pretended to be dead for years, and I still forgave him. Sorriso isn't bad. Screwy in the head, but not bad."

The native agreed by humming, lifting up Cuddles with both hands. "Mel-dee like tocatl. Intimidate. Solitary. Bite when frightened. Look scary. But gentle. Easy in calm. Coyo knows Mel-dee wish more people understood."

"They will, Tatuaggi. They will."

* * *

Two tables were covered in the notes Melody reviewed. Bits of misshapen scraps filled spots between torn-away notebook papers and yet no matter how long the cyborg stood, she struggled to understand.

' _There are no commonalities, save those expected from cousins,_ ' she thought. ' _How? In essence, both were mutated by the Languu. Yet their abilities and appearances are radically different._ ' Melody leaned forward, scanning results from recent tests. ' _Coyo's dominate alleles match textbook definitions, although the heavy melanin presence on her iris' front layer should be impossible. Or astronomically rare. It makes no sense for her entire tribe to share orange eyes, even less sense how the color coordinates with her gift to_ '—how had the native explained it? —' _see energies._ '

What had Coyo meant by that, anyway? She mentioned once how strange it was to watch a blue sky and that inside Nia's chest burned a faint, urethral glow. Her claims, however, were unfounded by proof and sounded fantastical.

' _I doubt she would lie, but her spiritual background makes my work harder. Touched by Teo is_ not _a reasonable explanation.._ '

"Knock, knock."

Melody sighed, more so in frustration of being disturbed than the fact that April entered Saisei's Lab. "Yes," Mel said.

The older redhead fidgeted—a subtle act tempered by her gentle voice. "Still working at that encyclopedia set, huh?"

"Records are important, Miss O'Neil. Donatello had already compiled studies of his family over the years. Those should be expanded."

"But you aren't working with the Mutagen right now, are you?"

"No. I organized those notes weeks ago. They are set in another pile dedicated to volume one."

"How many volumes you plan on making?"

"As it stands, four. One for Mutagen mutants, one for Languu-altered humans, one for cyborgs, and one for hybrids."

A whistle echoed. "That's quite the endeavor. And you're doing it alone? On top of school?"

"I can handle the load."

"Really?"

Mel sideglanced to where April thumbed through the notes the cyborg had gestured at. "Should you not be working as well?"

"Joy about your own business is that you can open whenever."

"It remains to be seen how you make a profit at the rate you linger around here nowadays."

April hunched, back still turned. "Casey's at my place. With Shadow."

"So?"

"I..." The older redhead sighed long and loud then slammed a palm atop the note pile. "If I stay there too long, I'll snap. It feels like Casey's dragging his feet, trying to win me over with Shadow. Even though he should be growing the balls to tell his mother what happened in Colorado."

"Why not call her yourself if it bothers you?"

"I can't. Want to. But cant."

"Then you have made a choice. Now, is there a reason you sought me out?" Melody had too much work on hand to risk wasting minutes; her hard stare told April as much. The older redhead kept a cool expression, though remained tight-lipped as Mel returned to her notes.

"I've seen what Leo's doing," April said a long time after. "Figured if he could make something work, so can I."

Mel almost choked on snide laughter, saying, "You don't have to like me. Neither of you."

"I don't. Not really."

So what was the point? The cyborg stared down the other woman, wondering.

"Melody," April stared, "you're an embittered ice bitch with a long history of violence and death. Hugh can vouch for that. Yet you have one of the most patient, tender guys standing up for an honor I admit I'm blind to. Correct Melody if she were wrong (she often misread emotions), but April sounded jealous. "You tore families apart," the older redhead continued. "I hate that about you. So I remind myself of your circumstances. How you grew up. Where. The twists your life took and what you had lost." April's tone softened as if she had witnessed the bullets that claimed Fry and Carlos or the cancer that robbed Gray of whatever few years she had left. "I went on my own excursion. The people at the Junkyard told me about you. Know what they did? They protected you, your reputation."

Had they? Even after she had taken Star? Melody doubted as much, although the contorted look on the other woman's face showcased another truth.

"It was so weird," April added. "There I was, candid about everything, and not one person believed you'd hurt them. They said you were special, called you their sentry, their Black Angel. It made me see you a little differently. You did so much for those people. Made awful connections. Took beatings. Administered medical care. Patrolled. All without asking for a reward. That? That's something I can respect."

"Respect?" Melody could barely repeat the word when she met April's green eyes. "What brought all this on?"

"The past has a way of haunting us. Still, Leo, Coyo, hell, even Casey, are trying to overcome that. We've gone through a crazy few years, and we're all floundering to return to some sort of normalcy. Well"—April half-smiled—" _our_ normalcy, anyway. I get that you aren't going anywhere, that you make Donny happy, so...we can be civil, at least. As long as you don't break his heart again."

"He broke mine first," the cyborg countered. Her stare dared the older redhead to deny the fact; however, April sighed in resignation.

"I came here for a truce, Gray. Will you accept it or not?"

"I will."

"Just like that?"

"Would you rather we argue?"

"Not really. I argue enough at home."

"Then it is settled." Melody returned to her notes, yet April wouldn't leave the Lab.

She lingered, silent while picking up Donatello's notes. "This is too big of a project to do on your own."

"Don helps."

"But he has other projects, too, doesn't he? And a job."

"...Yes."

"Let me help."

The older redhead took a few steps forward until Mel nodded. The cyborg wasn't foolish enough to deny assistance nor desperate enough to plead for it. And April didn't prod for thanks.


	10. Sisters

**A/N:** I GIVE WITH GRAMMAR! /flips table/ Thanks for pointing it out, though, D. Least I can fix it...Anyways, I love, love, LOVE ya'll and your reviews add light to my painful everyday routine. :D

* * *

 **CHAPTER 10:** **SISTERS**

Curse modern contraptions! Coyolxauhqui glared at the white box of metal, attempting to pry its top open.

"Coyo, that's not gunna work." April meandered into the laundering section of Saisei and just in time.

"App-ril!" Coyo vaulted over a pile of vile socks. "Quickly!"

"Quickly what?"

"Retrieve Coyo's garments!"

"Uh, why?"

"No question. Waste time. Come!"

"Coyo." April looked over her shoulder when Coyo pushed her from behind, green eyes straining to see the tribeswoman who stood half her height when hunched. "Last I heard, the guys put a lot of things on child lock since you came. Including the washer."

"App-ril smart. Can fix."

"It's less a matter of can and more a matter of want."

"Go, go!"

The fire-haired woman stumbled over the socks then hit her hip against the white box. It made an odd sound like an empty jug, although Coyo knew for a fact something precious had been stuffed inside.

"The cycle's already started," April said. "Lid's locked and judging by the pile-up, I'd say you guys can't afford a delay. Dear Lord, is that—is that Sophia's clothes?" The woman leaned down near the sock pile, but one sniff straightened her up again. "Ugh, she smells worse than Casey."

"Forget Soap!"

"Actually, she could do with using extra. Oh, you meant something else."

"Coyo garments stuck!"

How could April not realize the situation's importance? Grunting, Coyo jumped onto the metal box. Maybe pulling from another angle would release its insides.

"Honey."

The native sent April a glare. "Why speak of food now?"

"I'm not—look. I'd give you the comfort of it not having an agitator. Yanno, if you understood what that was. Whatever's in there will be fine. Trust me; it'll come out smelling like Jasmine Fields or whatever."

"Quema!" Coyo's voice cracked. "Water destroy! Lose smell forever!"

"That's what washing machines do. You've never been this worried about it before. Unless..." April leaned forward. Her hands caught the tribeswoman's wrists, and no matter how much Coyo fought, the fire-haired woman would not let go. "It's your breechcloth, isn't it?"

Coyo kneeled atop the machine to keep balanced, eyes stinging.

"In our defense, that thing stank like a ripe corpse," April added.

"Coyo should have always wore it."

"No. You'd be freezing for one. And smell worse for two."

"Coyo no understand. What smell?"

"Nose blind."

"Tlen?"

"Nothing. What's so bad about a wash? We aren't throwing it away."

"It smell different."

"Yeah, better."

"Worse! Like all else. Not like _home_ , like..." The stings in Coyo's eyes prickled with heat. She recoiled on the lid, its loud creaks less alarming than usual, and no matter how many times she reflected on her siblings' consent, she felt as if she betrayed them by losing track of the one memento that tied her to the K'ekchi.

"Hey, hey." April wrapped the native in a hug that pulled her off the metal box towards her chest. "That isn't the only thing from your home around here, you know?"

"Nothing so connected," Coyo croaked.

"Not with scent, no, but..." The woman began to stroke Coyo's untamed hair. "Look around. See the statues made by your artists. Splinter's shawl weaved by your elder. Tea gathered by your young ones. The culture that healed Leo is with us all. Him. You. Your cousin. Soap, for the time she guarded the Davvu. Hell, even Melody."

"She woman of Ayannite."

"Which finally explains why Don and I were never able to place her metal on the Periodic Table. We didn't think anything could scratch it, either, not until you nicked her with that spear of yours."

"Coyo trip."

"It's okay; nothing fazes that..." April sighed, holding Coyo tighter as she leaned over to let the native fall from her tiptoes to her soles. "You made a brave move, Coyo. A lot of us have told you that, but I don't think enough of us have told you that you're not an outsider here. You have no idea what you mean to us."

"It strange, hard, confusing. New York."

"City-life isn't for everyone. We don't expect it to be, either. It's the sacrifice you made for Leo, though, right?"

Coyo nodded against April's neck, breath shuddering.

"You will never _not_ be K'ekchi," the fire-haired woman continued. "And that certainly won't start with you washing some clothes. Okay?"

"O—okay."

"Good. Now." April pulled away yet kept her hands on Coyo's shoulders with a taunt-lip smile. "This place isn't the only thing that smells around here, no offense."

"Huh?"

"Let me call the girls. This can't go on any longer."

* * *

Which accursed fool invented the 'hairbrush'? What a monstrosity! It pulled at Coyolxauhqui's curls like a brayer patch she could neither rip apart nor ignore, and the tension made her fingers curl around the toilet lid that her sisters had forced her onto.

"Mio dio, Tatuaggi, have you _ever_ cleaned your hair?"

Coyo jerked away from Soap, only to meet April's thigh then Nia's belly when her head bounced forward.

"Wiggling isn't helping," April added.

So? The toilet lid swayed from one hinge (a result of earlier struggles) while the native whined.

"I—I bet you have lots of sores," Nia said.

"And dead bugs." Soap pulled so hard, Coyo's neck stretched sideways. "Cazzo, Capo lets you _sleep_ with him?"

"We don't need smart comments from the girl whose socks could peel wallpaper," April told the yellow-haired woman.

"I ain't a princess, Rosso; I'm a warrior."

"A sweaty one."

Nia giggled when she kneeled by Coyo's scarred feet, chin tucked as she scrubbed them with a damp cloth. The texture tickled the skin around the tribeswoman's calluses, and she would lift her legs to avoid the washing if her hair grooming wouldn't topple her over.

"Sorry for this," Nia said.

"It's been a while, though," April continued.

"Frankly?" Soap grunted, tugging the hairbrush through another knot. "We can't handle your onion-smell anymore."

Nia stared upwards with her brown and teal eyes.

"What, Calza? Why does everyone give me that look when all I do is voice what everyone else thinks?"

"Because you lack decorum," April answered.

The yellow-haired woman snorted. "Like I said: not a princess. Besides, we have a real princess in our bathroom who has less decorum than I do."

"She grew up in a forest."

"Still a princess. Without a bathing routine."

"Coyo bathe!" Coyolxauhqui interjected. She waved an arm towards where she heard Soap, although her vision was limited to a curtain of puffy hair.

"When?" Soap asked. "Last year?"

"Coyo clean with oils."

"Yeah, your own grease."

"Sophia!" Nia and April cried in unison. A thump sounded then a gag as the resistance in Coyo's hair cut short so quickly, her ear clipped the metal button on April's split-skirt.

"Che schifo," Soap spat, "I don't want her foot rag!"

April chuckled. "Why not? Your mouth is just as dirty."

Ometeotl, help Coyo. Her temples throbbed from the pull of brushes and bright lights, her neck ached from keeping her head upright, and she had a nagging feeling the women were far from done. But maybe, in their argument's midst, she could slip away. Just slink off the toilet and—

"Where are you going?"

Slumped, the native came face-to-face with green eyes. When had April and Nia switched places?

"We still have work to do," the fire-haired woman continued. Coyo groaned yet obeyed the hands that sat her back up on her prison seat.

"She sounds like a little kid," Nia said with a giggle. She gave a sympathetic look, though, fingers gentle in separating her sister-cousin's tangles.

Soap spit into the sink behind the artist, thin brows quirked as she folded her arms. "Let's just hope she stops fiddling so much when we introduce Miss Fuzzy-Legs to a razor."

"Ray-sore?" echoed Coyo.

"Si. A blade."

Blade? Ometeotl above, what did they have planned next? What would they cut? The native gasped.

"Hey!" April grunted while praying at the fingers Coyo wrapped around her hair.

"Please," Coyo whimpered, "Coyo love. No cut, no cut!"

Soap burst into laughter, and Nia hit the yellow-haired woman along her thigh, although it did nothing to silence her.

"We won't cut your hair," April said. "Well, not the ones on your head." Then which ones did they speak about? "Let's just focus on one thing at a time, K? Soap, get more detangling spray."

"Don't call me that, Rosso."

"Just do it."

"Vabbè." Hinges squeaked as Soap opened the mirror door above the basin. She pulled out a large bottle with a bright cap, and Coyo grimaced, dreading its nose-burning mist.

"You know—"Nia's voice stopped April short of grabbing the bottle—"with Coyo here, I started to realize how many chemicals we use. It's kind'a sad."

"What do ya mean, Calza?"

"Coyo's really sensitive to it all. Cleaning products give her a headache. Febreeze makes her throat sore. Most soaps break her skin out. She has stomach issues adjusting to our food. And now we're choking her out with hair products?"

The bathroom group fell silent, three pairs of greenish eyes set on Coyo.

"We've been so excited to have Leo back," the Tlaloco continued, "I think we overlooked that Coyo has a lot more to deal with than new scenery."

"I was thinking something similar earlier," April admitted. Her gaze fell to the bottle, which she placed out of sight.

"You going hippie on us, Calza?" asked Soap.

"It _is_ a healthier lifestyle," Nia replied.

"And more expensive."

"I'm sure we could figure out a budget. And who better to help us with alternatives than a woman who's spent her life living off the land?"

Coyo arched her back, debating what her sister-cousin's smile meant.

"How about it, Coyo?" April added. "Could you help?"

"Help?"

"Yeah, you can be our nature advisor."

"You...want Coyo to teach of plants?"

"Herbs. Spices. Salves we can use for, say, hygiene and scents. Cleaning."

"I dunno if I got the tenacity to stick that witchy hoodoo."

"It's for Coyo," Nia all but snapped at Soap. She sobered quickly, though, reaching for her sister-cousin's hands. "What do you think?"

"Plants give Coyo purpose?"

"Pardon?"

"Purpose." Coyo hunched then squeezed Nia's hands. "Coyo not only Leo's wife. Want place, purpose, role. With Hamato tribe."

"Did we make you feel like you didn't have a place?" Nia looked wounded, although Coyo smiled, leaning towards her sister-cousin.

"New York has gardens?" she asked.

April answered humorously, "Not the kind you're thinking of. But there are many organic stores around. I'm sure we can even find things imported from South America, especially for you to eat."

"Fruit? Maracuja? Chayote? Guayaba?"

The fire-haired woman laughed with every muscle in her pale face. "Only way to know is to go on another field trip. But this time, promise not to leave our sides and pay attention to the signs. Deal?"

Coyo bounced on the toilet lid and nodded.

"Good. Let's go get our coats."


	11. Closure

**A/N:** Yes, life is a roller coaster of events. And people are settling into the change. _D_ , glad to inspire research. :P Dunno about you, but I, personally, have that onion stench when I don't have...help. And my hair isn't much better. It runs on the Hispanic side of my family, so that's what I based Coyo's thing on. LOL

* * *

 **CHAPTER 11:** **CLOSURE**

' _B_ _lack Lotus took people from all classes, didn't they?_ ' Leonardo asked himself. He and Melody were back in East Harlem, yet at night, far from Astor Row. On a rusted fire escape, he could see the neighborhood along the Harlem River. It resembled a sub-city of five-story brownstones divided by sleeping Oaks, and their uniformity made him doubt if he had the right apartment.

"Why are you just standing there?" Melody asked.

Leo met her robotic eye that glowed under her hood, saying, "This place seems small to fit a family of eight."

"With the cut in government assistance, it is a wonder the Watkins can afford anything at all."

The Jonin sent the cyborg a look; however, he understood—somehow—that she meant her words as fact, not insult. "They must be cramped. How can we get Rupert alone?"

"You."

"Huh?"

"How can _you_ get Rupert alone?"

"You're coming in, too."

"Why?"

"You owe him an apology."

"My last apology did not go over so well."

"Yeah, but Rupert isn't Paige. Now, can you tell where everyone is?"

With a sigh, Melody stepped back, surveying the brickwork. "One adult in the kitchen. Two kids in the living room. One at rest. Two others in a bedroom, I guess."

"Any of them Rupert?"

"No. I believe Samantha is making dinner. Her husband is out."

"With Rupert?"

"I do not...wait." Mel leaned back over the fire escape rail. "Other side. West-side room."

"He's there?"

"Yes."

"He awake?"

"As far as I can tell. He is...playing with something."

"Come on."

The Jonin scaled to the roof without making any sound then climbed down the second fire escape with just as much grace. The same couldn't be said for Melody. Metal creaked after her, and the grate platform flexed when she landed on it with her entire Aynnite weight.

"What?" she asked.

She sounded genuinely confused, so Leo opted to drop the matter, crouching to hear through the semi-open window. Electric piano notes filled the room inside, a familiar tone that reminded the mutant of enclosed spaces and spiritual warmth from two children in want of his comfort.

' _He can play Sakura, Sakura just from me singing it? He sure is special._ '

Leo smiled at the thought. It lent him resolve to believe what Hugh had said and strength to slide the window all the way up. Rupert's notes turned sour as the curly-haired man scrambled back on the clothes-cluttered carpet, ready to bolt out the door.

"Wait, Rupert, don't be scared," Leo told him.

Rupert froze, speaking through hesitant, slurred words, "That Leo? Leo here?"

"Yeah." The Jonin pulled back his hood with a smile. "It's me."

Joy replaced fear the instant Rupert clumsily ran to Leonardo. "Friend Leo!" he cried. "Leo back! See me!"

Leo's throat dried up the moment he felt his fellow victim's embrace. It didn't encircle him—not physically, anyhow—but it left him winded, eyes stinging.

"Leo better?" Rupert asked against the mutant's plastron.

"In a way," Leo answered. "What about you? How are you?"

The hug tightened. "Scared."

"I—I'm sorry. Nightmares? I get those. They—"

"No, no," Rupert said with great difficulty. "Doctor Man like Boogie Man. Not real. Never real. Miss Vigue says."

' _Vigue? So he sees the same psychiatrist as Kaiya and Paige._ '

"I—I scared I never see Leo again," Rupert continued. "Detective Man say he gone."

"Detective Man?"

Rupert nodded. "The one who likes tacos."

"Oh, you mean Hugh. I heard he brings you food every now and again."

"Detective Man nice. But no Leo."

The mutant snorted. He thought Hugh had been exaggerating when the detective mentioned Ruper's eagerness. Leo couldn't save the man, only sang for him. How could such a small gesture warrant emotion like he was a soldier father returning from war?

"I'm sorry you went through all that," Leo said. "And I'm not the only one. Am I?"

The Jonin turned as he urged the curly-haired man away. Melody watched from below her hood at the window, a chilly breeze rustling her cloak. Rupert grew stiff when her gaze fell on him, and she pushed further back when he inhaled.

"No, no, no, no," he wheezed. "No robots! No hurt!"

"Rupert!" Leo watched in pain as the curly-haired man hunched his uneven posture, clawed hand twitching against his chest. "Listen, listen."

"I told you," Melody said. Her voice wavered, though, and the mutant spared her a look before gripping Rupert's shoulders.

"Look at me, Rupert," Leo said. "Look." A firm shake brought glossy gray eyes upwards. "Would I bring anyone here who'd hurt you?"

Rupert choked on a reply—as if he wanted to believe yet the fact remained that they only knew one another through captivity.

"This is Melody. She..." The mutant glanced at the cyborg. "She was a prisoner, too, Rupert."

"H—how?"

"The bad doctors kidnapped her. Then she was... _made_ to take us. It..." Leo sighed. "They cut her, put metal in her body, changed her. Now she's...special."

The mutant all but felt Melody's scoff in his chest. But she must understand the way he meant his explanation. Rupert did.

"Robot girl special?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Like me?"

Leo half-smiled. "They hurt her brain."

"Sammy says Mother hurt _my_ brain. Bad drinks. Bad mo—mother."

"Fetal Alcohol Syndrome," Melody supplied.

She shook her head, and Leonardo regained Rupert's attention by snapping his fingers. "Have you ever made a mistake?" he asked. "Did something wrong?"

The man dropped his gaze. "Yes."

"What happened?"

"Wa—wanted Tory to play. But Tory with Ryan. Play car game on TV. I—I no like TV games. Ha—hard. No rhythm. I took the controller. Took it!" Rupert raised his hands that mimicked the memory. "I threw it out the window. It—it was bad. Very bad. Sammy yelled. But I just wanted to play."

"Well, Melody made a mistake, too."

"It was a choice," Melody interjected.

She tensed from her Chi to her stance while the special-needs man approached her, glancing at the open window. Slumped and sluggish, Rupert pushed back the cyborg's hood to stare up at her face with his head cocked. Despite the listless expression, Melody was flush, shoulders expanding with short breaths. Leo had never seen her so ill before, and his eyes stung worse when Rupert hugged her.

"I sorry," the man said.

"Yo—you?" Melody croaked.

"Sorry Melody cut. Sorry brain got hurt. So—sorry."

The cyborg faced Leonardo. Maybe she expected him to counter Rupert. Or maybe she wanted him to. Vulnerability shined even through her robotic prosthetics, and she shook until she gave into tears.

"I'm sorry, too," she whispered.

Funny thing was, Leo believed her.

* * *

Melody's eye still stung on the drive back to Saisei. She rubbed the tear duck with metal fingers in hopes a physical reminder of her change would ease her vulnerability. Instead, it only brought thoughts to how warm, and shaky Rupert's arms had been around her waist.

"I've never seen you cry before," Leonardo said. He kept his tone just above the engine hum and remained focused on controlling the Battle Shell. "I've heard about it. From Don. Raph."

"Of course I can cry," Melody spat. "I'm still—"

"Human?"

The cyborg sighed, bringing her attention to the passing night traffic outside her tinted window.

"You know it didn't seem like that?" Leo added. "Not at the start. And it was frustrating because I wanted a reason to convince myself that you being here was okay."

"It isn't," Melody whispered.

"That's what it feels like, though I don't think it's...true? Melody." The blue-masked mutant glanced sideways. "We all have shortcomings."

Mel snorted. Is that what he considered her Limbic trauma?

"Just hear me out. People have and always will have vices or habits that frustrate those around them. Raph likes to jump to assumptions. Don shuts us out when caught up in a project. Sensei never lets a subject rest when it's bothering us. Mikey won't sit still. Sophia's disrespectful, Nia's Mozallo ability is kind'a unnerving, and Coyo makes me sleep with Twitch even though the stupid thing poops on our pillows. But I still care for them, despite it all."

"No one ever said you had to care for me."

"You're right. And to be honest? This? Us? It's weird. I've struggled with hate for you for so long that it scares me. Like I'm...almost lost without it."

Melody pursed her lips, pressing for an explanation with her pointed stare as the Battle Shell turned.

"Compassion is one of the Virtues of Bushido," Leonardo continued. "Living in hate takes so much effort. It alienates you, poisons you. But letting it go takes courage I haven't had in a long time. That's why I insisted on these trips. I needed to see you face what you had done and react."

"Must've been so disappointing."

The mutant shook with a curt laugh. "Not tonight. Rupert showed us that somewhere inside you _do_ regret. Just knowing that makes me feel lighter."

So she cried. What difference did that make from a few hours before?

"You're handicapped, Melody. Emotionally."

"You knew that weeks ago."

"But now it's something I'm willing to work with, something I can accept."

"Because I cried?"

"Yes." Leonardo smiled with such gentleness it constricted the cyborg's guts around her power cell. "Even small acts can have profound impacts. We can never anticipate them, either. This morning, I had no idea I'd feel closure by the end of the day."

"Closure?"

"Don't ask me to explain it. Please. I have no idea how. All I know is I feel like we can close the book on what happened, start over. Not on stable grounds. But I'm ready."

"For?"

"Moving forward. What about you?" The mutant's gaze lingered on Melody longer than any driver should.

It bore beneath her skin, into nerves and wires, and she forced her head away from the window even though she wanted nothing more than to hide. "My mother died of cancer because she couldn't afford help. Every day others face a similar position, and my desire is to help them. I don't focus on what I did; I can't. But when you bring up the past, it makes it harder for me to concentrate on the now. _That's_ what's important. The now."

"Actually, I agree. Which is why I'll let you do it."

"Do what?"

"Help with my anxiety and Raph's eye."

Mel straightened in the passenger seat. "You said you did not wish to take drugs."

"I don't. Talk with Coyo, find something natural."

Well, it wasn't impossible. In fact, it could make an interesting challenge. With Coyolxauhqui's botany knowledge, the cyborg had a chance to expand possibilities for those with peculiar allergies and—

"I guess that's okay with you?" asked Leonardo.

Melody hummed. "Raphael, however, will need something stronger."

"We're susceptible to anesthetics."

"Your low-tolerance is known. We can put him under in stages with monitored increments. I will make certain his heart rate will not plummet and have multiple contingencies in place to account for any kind of shock that may occur. But he _must_ go under; otherwise, his eye will kill him."

"Yeah...yeah, I get that."

"I would also like to check Coyo's blood again."

"What for?"

Melody decided not to answer; if was she wrong, she would rather not cause alarm, and if she was right, he would find out in due time.


	12. Brothers

**A/N:** Right, ya'll? Progress! I love you all and your enthusiasm. We got one last chapter lest after this. :D

* * *

 **CHAPTER 12:** **BROTHERS**

Coyolxauhqui had never heard of surgery before. What few books she read involved fables, fantasies she lost herself in to forget the war. She found it unnerving how doctors could cut into a drugged patient without killing them and cringed at the idea of what Raphael endured behind the Lab's closed back door.

"Donny," she said, "why you no with Mel-dee and Ga-veen?"

Donatello twisted in a giant, rolling chair at his desk, hands still attached to his machine's letter-board. "Room's limited," he answered. "We pushed it with the three of us when delivering the twins. Besides, when it comes down to it, Gavin is better apt to handle these things."

Coyo's head cocked. Was the purple-masked ayotl not a medicine-man as well?

"World doctors are more varied than tribal shamans," Leonardo said. He sat in a metal chair beside his wife and gave a crooked smile when she faced him. "The fields are far too numerous to count."

"Technically speaking," started Don, "neither Mel nor Gavin are Ophthalmologists. Uh, eye surgeons. Mel's a student and Gavin's background in cytology makes him more of a chemist than anything."

"But Donny is Hamato Tlacapatli, quema?"

"Huh?"

Leo chucked. "Medicine man, Don."

"Ah." Donny's gaze lingered on his older brother before returning to the native who twirled her curls in thought. "I was. Am. Ish? I mean, I know basics, and I'll learn more, but I prefer mechanics. To be honest, I wish we had better connections with specialists."

"And therein lies the downside to being a green machine," Michelangelo said. He had been wondering the Lab quietly towards the side, quite uncharacteristic for his boisterous personality.

"Yeah," Donny agreed in a measured tone. "We have to be everything for everyone. Sophia and our in-laws are the only ones who can really get further help. The others are hybrids, a cyborg, and an illegal."

"Oh, come now, Donny Boy," Mikey said, "I'm sure our favorite detective could fudge Coyo records if we batted our eyelashes."

The purple-masked ayotl grimaced. "We don't have eyelashes."

"Coyo does."

Eh? What did eyelashes have to do with requests?

"Mikey"—Leo's warning earned attention from a pair of soft blue eyes and his wife—"Hugh has enough on his plate."

"He's as scrutinized as we are," added Donny. "Mel's taking on a lot of responsibility, too. She's making encyclopedias of our physiologies while studying for a medical license. And when she gets that, she won't specialize in one field. She's already a gynecologist-on-the-fly, and she and I will need to become pediatricians together to keep the babies healthy."

"On the bright side, at least you don't have to be our psychiatrists as well," Mikey said.

"Sensei does a much better job of that," Donny replied with a grin.

"And Nia. Don't forget Nia."

"Never, Mike. We all know who'll be the next clan psychiatrist when—" Donny stopped short, mouth agape. He stayed quiet a moment then shared a look with Leo that struck Coyo's chest through Mozallo. "A—anyways," he continued, "that's why I'm not back there, Coyo. They have the experience I lack."

"But is safe?" Coyo asked.

"Olson got the right tools and anesthesia," Donny answered.

"But they take Raphael's eye."

"Yes."

"His _eye_!" Warm hands covered Coyo's shoulders. She looked up from her seat, half-expecting an eclipse stare yet meeting Michelangelo's gentle gaze instead.

"No worries, Dudette," he said. "This is a good thing."

Donny hummed in agreement. "Any longer and Raph's infection would've turned septic."

"Besides"—Mikey's smile grew—"I trust Mel. Don't you?"

Thumping footfalls cut off Coyolxauhqui's answer. She leaned aside to see around the orange-masked ayotl, who cheered Sophia's name when the yellow-haired woman sauntered into the Lab.

"Dinner's almost ready, losers," Soap said.

"What'd Mama A make tonight?" Mikey asked.

"You'll have to go up there to find out."

"Boo."

"Suck it up, Figo." Back turned, the spear-thin Soap rummaged through various machine parts that cluttered a black-stained workbench. "Like the upgrades I made to your Taser Glove, Genio?"

"I'd like them better had you told me about them beforehand."

"Oh, chill your shell. I know what I'm doing. Especially when it comes to conductivity control." Coyo wondered about 'conductivity,' although Soap left no room for an explanation when she gasped sharply and leaned over the workbench. "Mios dio, Genio! When'd you get high-grade Aramid cables?"

"Last week."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"One, I don't want you using all my materials on your little Spider-Guy gloves. Two, you have other things you should focus on."

"Like what?"

"Your job. To buy your own crap."

"Stronzo."

"Woah, wait, hold it," Mikey interjected. He stood with raised hands between his woman and purple-masked brother. "Hoshi, you got another job?"

"I helped her find it," Donny said. Judging by Soap's pressed lips, Coyo would guess her yellow-haired sister loathed the idea.

"What is it?" added Mikey.

"Boring," Soap replied.

"No, really. What're you doing? Is it pizza delivery again? Please tell me it's pizza delivery."

Soap refused to admit anything, so Don spoke in her place, "It's pizza delivery."

The orange-masked ayotl pumped a fist in the air while Leo chuckled. Coyo failed to understand the excitement, however. She had tried pizza once. Its grease left her fingers filthy, and kept her awake all night with a burn in her chest. Why would so many prefer it over hunting a fresh meal?

"Know what you haven't done, Genio?" Soap asked, straight-faced.

"What?"

"Sent that encrypted e-mail to my family."

"Hey, I—I haven't forgotten." Donny shifted through papers on his desk, some of which fluttered to the floor when he held up a bright green scrap of paper. "I have the note right here. Just...haven't gotten to it with all that's been going on."

"So they're a back-burner thought."

"Don't twist this, Sophia. Please."

"Hoshi." Tender in both tone and movement, Michelangelo enveloped his love. "He'll get to it. Tonight. Eh, Don?"

Don sat back with controlled features, and something inside Coyo convinced her that the ayotls' exchanged looks were as effective as any conversation. They felt in agreement, some more willingly than others; the tribeswoman just knew it as if she were a brother as well.

"Go eat, guys," Leo said.

"Mum kind'a wanted to wait," Soap countered.

The blue-masked ayotl shook his head. "We have no idea how much longer Raph will be in surgery. Don't starve on his behalf."

"Didn't plan to, Capo. But really, think things are okay in there?"

All attention turned to the closed door at the Lab's back corner. It had remained motionless, trapped in time for a majority of the day, and Coyo's grumbling guts reiterated how long she had been waiting.

"Mel has things covered," Donny told the yellow-haired woman.

"She better," Leo grumbled—a threat only his wife heard before Soap laughed.

"Defi's gunna have a hell of a time adjusting to losing half his sight."

Donny returned to his letter-board, and it clicked as he spoke, "Not as much as you think. His vision's been suffering for months. As of late, he could only see blurs of color when not wearing his patch."

"Imagine if he lost a leg next," added Mikey.

"Why?" Coyo screeched. How awful! What brother would imagine such a thing, let alone smile at the thought?

"Coyo, Coyo, relax," the jester said, "I'm teasing. We have a parrot. He gets an eye patch. A peg leg and he'd be full on pirate."

Coyo started blankly.

"You don't know what pirates are, either? Come on!"

"To be technical," Don started, "the pirates you're thinking of are fiction."

Mikey waved a hand. "No one has time for your bummer facts, Dude."

"Guys." Leo regained his tribe's attention. "Go eat."

"What about Leo?" Coyo asked.

The blue-masked ayotl spared a handsome smile. "I'll wait."

"But—"

"Adeline's been eager to cook with the organic foods you picked out. It'd be rude not to join her."

Coyo huffed. Still, her husband made a point. "Coyo bring Leo food soon."

"Deal."

* * *

Leonardo lost track of the hour long before the Lab's operation room opened. A faint click jolted him from semi-sleep, and he stood to meet the redheads in blood-stained medical scrubs.

"Leonardo," Melody said, "you are still here."

"Couldn't leave," Leo replied. "Sent the others up, though. For dinner. Think they got distracted with something Don said he'd do weeks ago."

"I see."

"So." The Jonin's weight shifted from one leg to the other, and he gave a smile that died when his gaze fell onto the stains the cyborg's latex gloves left when she pulled down her surgical mask. "How is he?"

Melody kept a straight face. "Stable. Bitter. We had to remove the entire eye; there was nothing we could salvage."

"Beats the alternative, I guess. Uh." Leo inhaled, at first to regain his breath then to remind himself that the blood spotting the doctors meant something positive. "Thanks," he told them, "both of you."

"Had to help; Ni likes him," Gavin answered. His gloves snapped inside out as he removed them and static splayed his wiry hairs outwards after he removed his plastic cap.

"Seriously," added Leo. "I...I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't been here."

"Simple," Melody said. "Raphael would have died of a blood infection."

Curt and listless, the cyborg's frankness would've unnerved anyone. Yet Leonardo was neither offended nor concerned. Not anymore. She spoke the truth, and the Jonin had begun to realize it wasn't her way to candy-coat matters.

"You can see him for a half hour or so," Melody continued. "He needs rest."

Leo snorted. "Good luck with that."

"I'm about to get Nia to watch him."

"That would be your best bet."

"Leaving Mia and me with the twins," Gavin chimed in.

The blue-masked mutant quirked his lips while the older man disposed of everything except his scrubs and round glasses in a biohazard trash bin. "I'll stay with Raph until then. Tell Coyo I'll be up soon."

Melody nodded, and Leonardo entered the operation room without a second thought. Inside reeked of infection and rubbing alcohol so dense it left residue on the Jonin's tongue. The lights were dimmed, probably in mercy, but Leo saw well enough to take a seat beside the turtle mutant covered in a bedsheet on the operating table.

"Hey, Bro," he said, "how you feeling?"

Raphael's head lolled sideways, left eye glazed and right socket buried under layers of bandages. "Like some crazy lady spooned out my eyeball."

Leo choked on the air and humor. "Least you have Morphine. Imagine if we had to do this without Melody, Gavin, or Olson."

"Leo..." The hothead trailed off as he blinked groggily then continued in a hoarse voice, "Ta be honest? I doubt I would'a survived wit'out 'em. No tools? No drugs? No experience? No Raph."

"And Nia would be one tragically young widow."

"That's how Gray sold me on the idea. Like hell I'd leave my woman alone wit' ya."

"And wanting to raise your daughters had nothing to do with it."

"Yeah, I didn't want ya corruptin' 'em inta mini fearlesses. Get yer own kids."

"Maybe one day." The brothers shared a smile that soon grew somber.

"Gray's done sick shit," Raph started, "but one good thing I can say about her is that she throws herself inta whatever motivates her. I've seen her vulnerable, man. She's got scars ta prove it. She cares. In her own way."

"I'm starting to see that," Leo grumbled.

"I fought it for a long time. My infection. Tried ta ignore it, convinced myself it'd pass, even though part 'a me knew what would happen." Raph drew in a slow breath through his nostrils then blinked again. "Must be crazy. I trusted her ta do this. A handicap junkyard doctor. An' I don't mean her alien metal."

"She isn't the only mental person around here."

"Ain't that the truth. Turtle Luck, huh? We get a doc, an' she's special ED."

"We never were ones to attract anything normal."

"Not by a long shot." Smirking, the hothead added, "How's that anxiety hippie juice Gray 'n Blue made ya?"

Leo straightened in his seat. "Alright. I think. Haven't had a nightmare in a while. Not sure if it's because I stated the regiment or if I'm just having a few decent days."

"Hard ta tell?"

"Yeah. But even if it doesn't work, I'll try whatever natural solution they suggest next. I don't want drugs."

"That makes one 'a us."

Leo chuckled as his brother's voice grew fainter. Raph's amber eye fought to stay open yet failed when he yawned, and the Jonin placed a hand on the hothead's bicep.

"We'll move you to a more comfortable place soon," he said. "Rest your eyes." Raph made a face that turned Leo sheepish. "Sorry."

"Whatever, Fearless." Then with a final yawn, Raph dozed off.


	13. Future

**A/N:** Yeah, Raph's a stubborn turtle and it's mostly his fault. Guess he's a pirate ninja now. Mike has more teasing material. ;D In a way, D, I'm working towards a sort've 'Same As It Never Was' endgame SOOO. Now, onto the conclusion.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 13:** **FUTURE**

The cooking room no longer felt foreign to Coyolxauhqui. She moved with confidence across the smooth floor, with purpose over the stone countertops, and it was the best feeling until the musky scent of the root she chopped turned her stomach.

"Coyo!" Someone pulled back the native's wild hair as she emptied her lunch into the sink. "You okay?"

"Qu—quema," Coyo told Nia, still salivating. She turned on the water pipe to rinse her mouth then washed her face before turning it off.

"You sure?" Nia added. She handed over a colorful cloth for her sister-cousin to dry with and drew her thick brows together.

Coyo nodded, saying, "Coyo well."

"Really?" The Tlatlaco smiled. "Thought your new diet was supposed to help your stomach sensitivity."

"Is better. Coyo no vomits all day, just morning."

"Guess that's to be expected with what Mel-oneechan found out." Nia's smile grew, and it left Coyo's insides in a flutter as she rested her hands on her bloated gut. "Leo-niichan doesn't know?"

Coyo shook her head. "Want to surprise whole tribe."

"It'll be a surprise alright." Why did her sister-cousin sound leery? "And I just happened to walk into the Lab to get Raph more painkillers. I can act surprised if you like."

"No, no." The tribeswoman tucked a few curls behind her ear as Nia giggled.

"Call me selfish, but," the Tlatlaco returned to chopping roots, "it'll be nice not being the only new mom around here."

"Coyo only hope she be good mother like Nia."

"What?" Nia's head shook. "I don't deserve any praise. My mother—Mia—helps a lot, despite being wheelchair-bound. I—I—I'd be a mess without her."

"Nia lucky."

"Lucky?"

"She raised in love."

"What do you mean? Your...your mother didn't love you?"

As her sister-cousin's voice grew soft, Coyo let her exchange the half-cut root so the native could rip apart rinsed lettuce instead. "Mantli love, yes," she said, "but imihio—spirit—harsh from war, dead inside."

"You are far from dead, Coyo-neechan. Trust me."

"Coyo scared, though. She no knows how to raise a child outside war."

"Hey." Nia laid a hand over Coyo's trembling hands, a warmth covering her chilled, wet fingers. "You've lived through too much not to appreciate this gift, and _you're_ lucky to have such a big support group. It'll be okay. We can learn together. Hm?"

Nia gave a smile that reminded Coyo of her late aunt; she recalled an equal tenderness in uneven teeth and sorrowful eyes as the true Chieftain sang her niece to sleep. ' _App-ril was right. The K'ekchi are here._ '

"Come on," Nia added, "I can't wait to see everyone's faces when you make the announcement."

Oh, Coyo either! The curly-haired woman practically floated into the eating room, where a long table teemed with life. Splinter sat at the far end with his sons and daughters joined by their three human in-laws along the sides. It seemed too crowded for more people, yet Raph and Leo waved towards seats they saved beside them.

"How long does it take ta make a damn salad?" Raphael asked.

His wife swatted his bicep, focus set on a magic box called a 'baby monitor.' "Language."

"The girls are asleep, Ni. 'Sides, it ain't like they'll be talkin' anytime soon."

"Actually," Melody interjected, "your twins can start repeating words as early as July."

Nia's mismatched eyes widened. "In three months? So soon?"

"For a typical little girl," answered Adeline. "I think the twins may start talking sooner, personally. They mature faster than any other baby I've known."

"No," Nia whined, "I want them to stay tiny angels forever."

"Now you know how I feel," Mia added. She smiled from where her wheelchair was parked at the table end opposing Splinter, and the glee bubbling inside Coyolxauhqui fizzled over until it burst.

She stood, seat clanking backward, and raised her arms. "Coyo is with child!"

All except Nia and Melody froze in various positions—some as they piled food on their plates, some in mid-speech, and some like agasp children.

"Uh," Mikey started, "you, uh, you sure about that?"

"I heard them," Melody said.

"Them?" Leo squeaked. "A—as in Coyo and the baby?"

The cyborg sent the oldest ayotl a dry look. "No. As in multiples."

The table erupted into murmurs, quieting when their leader cleared his throat. "Am I"—he tapped his front shell—"are we having twins too?"

"Triplets."

An instant stillness settled over the group, and Leo, of all, looked sick. Coyo arms lowered with her dwindling smile and the longer her husband stared into space, the more uneasy her guts churned.

"Dang, bros," Michelangelo broke the silence with a whistle. "When you guys make babies, you sure don't _kid_ around!"

Everyone groaned, except Leo, who continued to gap.

"Actually, the science of multiple births lies with hyper-ovulation," Melody supplied dully. "Sperm plays no role outside of fertilization."

"So this is on Ni and Coyo?" Mikey wiggled his eye ridges as Mel nodded.

"It is hardly a surprise, given that their maternal family has a history of multiples. Nia's DZ twins are not uncommon, either. Although, something tells me Coyo carries MZ children."

"Excuse me." Mikey raised a hand then lowered it. "For those of us not going to doctor school, what's the difference between DZ and MZ?"

"DZ stands for Dizygotic," Donny answered. "Fraternal twins. It means two eggs were fertilized in the same cycle by different sperm. While MZ is Monozygotic, a single egg fertilized by the same sperm then split. In other words, identical twins."

"Or triplets in this case. I mean holy crap, Leo, this is _huge_! Leo?"

Leonardo would not move. Why? Was he not excited? Did he think only Nia could carry hybrids? Did he not want them? Ometeotl. Coyo's throat dried up as she pressed her belly. Please say he wanted them. Nia assured her he would, yet his stillness weighed down the room.

"Leonardo," Splinter said. "Your wife has just given you wonderful news." The caxtillān quimichin jerked his son to life with a firm clap.

Leo straightened, eyes on the native who held back tears and fear. He stood slowly then wrapped Coyo in a hug that grew tighter with the seconds.

"Leo," she croaked, "ha—happy?"

"Yes," the ayotl whispered. He smiled into his lover's hair, and she felt her heartbeat thump in her chest pressed against his front shell. "You never cease to amaze me."

"This is the future Coyo always want," Coyo whispered in Nahuatl.

"Giving birth to hybrid children?" Leo countered in kind.

The native rocked her forehead along his chest. "No. To raise a family where my children can have a real childhood."

"You can bet I will do all in my power to ensure as much."

Of that, Coyolxauhqui had no doubt, and she sealed her faith in her husband with a long kiss as her tribe clamored in excitement.

* * *

No matter how many times his brothers congratulated him, Leonardo still felt their reason why strange. Nia was half Languu, who were alchemists with genes. But Coyo? Could she be pregnant because her ancestors were altered, however impartial, by the aliens? Did Recro-12 play any part? Or had the boys' Mutagen evolved to help the process? Hell, it could be a mix of all three, yet that didn't make his triplets more real.

The Jonin stopped breathing. His triplets. His babies. _His_.

"I know the feelin', Fearless."

Leo let out what remaining oxygen he held in a shuddering exhale and faced Raphael. The hothead joined him in the short hallway beside the stairs, where Nia's up-dated family portrait hung above their memorial candles at its end. Leo lingered on his painted figure surrounded by soft blues then met the amber eye that glinted with amusement.

"Took me a while ta wrap my head around things," Raph continued.

"When did it stop feeling like a dream?" Leo whispered.

His red-masked brother was silent for a long moment while he watched the living room crowd. The women (minus Melody), Michelangelo, and Donatello held conversations in overlapping voices that would've been incoherent chatter even if Yolotli and Pez were quiet. Casey did a dance just outside their circle as Twitch ran across his body to avoid the bigger animals, and Splinter called for the piranha-pig monster to calm the mayhem.

 _'We're a regular zoo, aren't we?_ ' thought Leo with a shake of his head.

"Want the truth?" Raph finally asked.

"Yes," Leo answered.

"It wasn't real 'til I held my girls. There were oddah times it hit me that I'd be a dad—hearin' their heartbeats, seein' the ultrasounds, feelin' 'em move—but...all that paled when I held 'em, felt their warmth, their skin, their life. There ain't _any_ feelin' like it."

"This is nothing like the future I imagined for us."

The hothead snorted. "It's been hell. An' wit' Bishop in the limelight, it'll get worse. That said?" Raph's eye found Nia and the tiny hybrids she held.

"Children, Raph," Leo said. "We have children."

"Wives. Police friends. A pupil, in yer case. Moddahs-in-law."

"A father-in-law."

"Don't remind me."

"Gavin seems a little less tense than before I left."

"By a fraction of a fraction. He still hates me."

The Jonin laughed, mostly because he couldn't deny it. He inhaled deeply, aware of how distant the redheaded man sat from the commotion. He loitered with Melody near the bench beside the front door, and when her half-robotic gaze found Leo, she tensed.

"I have something I need to do," Leo told Raph.

The hothead nodded without question, focus on the cyborg, then headed towards Casey. By the time Leo turned back to the bench, Melody had disappeared, but he knew where to look. Passed the dining room to the kitchen's farthest wall, he caught the redhead just before she reached the bookcase-door outside his bedroom.

"Melody, wait," he called.

The cyborg paused, Ayannite fingers shy of the book lever. "I should return to studying," she said. "And check the salve for Raphael's eye socket."

"The longer it sits, the better. That's what Coyo told me." Melody kept her gaze adverted, and Leo allowed her time to drop her arm before continuing, "I...I wanted to thank you."

"You already have."

"Not for Raph. I mean, not _only_ for Raph. That—I—" The Jonin deflated, squeezed breathless by his tightened chest. He licked his lips, adding in a strained voice, "I hate how you've gone about things in the past. And we may never agree on morals. But I admit you pour whatever soul you have into being a doctor. You found a way to cure Splinter's cancer. You delivered Raph's babies. You spend hours researching, studying and writing not just to educate yourself, but to form a medical record that can be used by the clan later, to better help the people at Baker's free clinic when it opens. For that I thank you."

Melody's half-metal face softened only for a moment. She nodded in response, perhaps scared to speak or lost in thought. Or maybe she had no idea how to respond.

' _Yeah,_ ' Leo met the cyborg's blue-gray eye, ' _that's probably it._ '

"I've made mistakes," Melody admitted in a surprisingly mournful tone. "Even if I have no regret over them, I know they're mistakes. But they happened when I lost my purpose."

"And what's your purpose now?"

"To do what I wanted when my mother began dying: heal. We're the bottom of society—the forgotten, unwanted, branded. No one will help us; we must help ourselves."

"Or have an advocate, a 'Black Angel?'" Leo half-smiled, even as the budding passion in Melody cooled into listlessness.

"That is the Junkyarders name for me. Nothing more."

"Beats 'Red Demon,' right?" The Jonin struck a cord; it hit the cyborg's expression into his gut. "Sorry. I just find it crazy how none of those people believe you'd ever take some of their own. Guess that goes to show how much you had done for them before..." Leo trailed off, and Melody shifted her weight while folding her arms. "Anyways," the mutant added, "you helped Nia through her pregnancy. I—I appreciate your help in advance for Coyo's, too."

"It is a difficult position," Melody drawled. "Multiple births are always a high risk. Nia had great difficulty, and she carried twins, not—"

"Triplets."

"Yes...Leonardo." Leo swallowed hard as Melody addressed him. "I did not lose the other hybrids. I will not lose these ones either."

Call him crazy, but Leonardo trusted her words—words from his past tormentor—and that seemed more unreal to him than his children.


End file.
